In A Plexiglas Prison With You
by 27dayz
Summary: They were trapped, far from humanity in a prison cell where no one could possibly reach them. Their only consolation was that they were together. Ch14: The End
1. The Abduction

**AN**: My newest fic. It may seem a bit like Grave Danger, but it has several important twists that I guarantee will not dissappoint.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Summary: They were trapped, far from humanity in a prison cell where no one could possibly reach them. Their only consolation was that they were together.

Chapter One: The Abduction of Gilbert Grissom and Catherine Willows

A putrid smell filled Gil Grissom's nostrils as he stepped out of the passenger's side of the Denali and into a back alley of one of Las Vegas's shadier neighbourhoods. The uniformed cop had his back to alley and was gulping in fresh intakes of air from the street.

"What the hell is that?" Catherine Willows asked, falling into step beside Grissom as they walked towards the officer.

"I was called in to investigate a suspicious smell and I found blood spattered all over the walls of the buildings and then I called you guys. I've been here ever since," Officer Kitchner explained, still trying to find clean air.

"I'm surprised that you haven't passed out yet," Catherine commented as she stepped forwards to view the blood spatter on the walls. Blood was her specialty, after all. There was a lot of it, she noted. Whoever that blood belonged to was most assuredly dead.

"This is a lot of blood," Grissom said, snapping a photograph of the walls and spatter patterns, "And it looks…odd," he trailed off, trying to get a closer look. She knew what he meant. The spatter didn't look like it had gotten on the wall through the usual conventions, such as arterial spray or spatter from a blow to the head.

"It's almost as if someone took a bucket and poured it on the wall," she described, moving closer to examine a drop and then promptly pulling her head back, "Oh my God!" she explained, exhaling rapidly.

"The blood is causing the smell?" Grissom asked her, looking disgusted and confused.

"Y-yeah," she gasped. She struggled to catch her breath. She needed some air. She wasn't sensory deficient like Grissom was when he was at a scene. She was good at breathing through her ears, but not that good. She took two shaky steps before she tripped over a pile of boxes with her foot, causing them to fall over. She caught herself but got another putrid whiff of the smell and vomited on the ground.

"Are you okay?" Grissom called, walking over to her. She shakily wiped her mouth with her sleeve and got to her feet.

"Yeah. The pail," she choked out motioning to the cause of the stench. He moved a box and found a white gallon pail filled with red. There were also little bits of meat that almost looked like fish.

"What the…" Grissom trailed off, trying to find a safe distance to view the blood in the bucket without making himself sick.

"What did you guys-" a shot echoed through the night and Kitchner never finished his sentence. Catherine and Grissom watched in shock as the cop fell to his knees, instantly killed by the bullet hole through his forehead.

Catherine's hand jumped to her holster, but she didn't even make contact with her gun before there was a crack and her knees gave way.

"CATH-" Grissom felt something hit the back of his head before his knees gave way and he crumpled beside Catherine.

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"What the hell happened? Where are they?" Warrick Brown cried as he, Nick Stokes, and Greg Sanders jumped out of their Denali and ran over to Conrad Ecklie and Jim Brass.

"They've been gone about an hour," Ecklie announced, "We just got a call in about Kitchner's body. They're no where to be seen."

"We found this," Brass spoke, his voice shaking as he motioned to two field kits, two cell phones, and two CSI vests.

"T-they can't be…gone…" Greg started towards Catherine and Grissom's belongings, only to stop as if he had hit an invisible wall.

"What the hell is that smell?" Nick gasped from Greg's side.

"It smells like a decomp," Warrick winced, breathing out slowly.

"Only worse," Greg added, taking a few shy steps towards the overturned boxes and CSI gear laying under the blood on the wall. The smell only intensified.

"Ooh…how are we going about this?" Nick asked, gesturing to the chaos in the alley. He knew that they would have to work fast to find their supervisors. They didn't know how much time Grissom and Catherine had. Every second they wasted was another second that their coworkers didn't have.

"I'll take Grissom and Cath's stuff. Greg seems to have the original evidence covered. You want Kitchner's body?" Warrick asked, gesturing to the dead cop. Nick nodded.

"Yeah. I'll get on that," he answered, walking away from the smell to the body of the fallen policeman.

"Guys! I found something!" Greg called suddenly. Warrick and Nick whirled around to find Greg holding a white, blood-stained bucket.

"It's not human blood," he announced, "It's fish blood."

"Fish blood? What's that doing here?" Warrick thought aloud, "We're miles away from the nearest fish market."

"It was staged," Nick breathed, figuring it out. His breathing quickened as he pictured Grissom and Catherine walking up to their scene, somewhat leisurely, as he himself had done two years ago, just before he was abducted and buried alive. He remembered the smell of the dog entrails and the neat blood pool. He remembered pondering over a peculiar piece of evidence when he had been grabbed from behind. The fish blood…it was bait for a CSI, just like the dog entrails that had lured him to that near-fatal crime scene. Someone was hunting CSIs.

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Grissom's head pounded. He tried to sit up, but couldn't. He tried to move his arms, but his wrists were bound. He strained to remember what had happened to him. He had been in an alley. There was a disarming odour. And there was blood on the buildings. Kitchner had been shot. And Catherine…Catherine! It all came screaming back to him. She had been right beside him. He had heard her gasp of surprise as she fell next to him.

He opened his eyes and ignored the pain. He had to make sure she was alright. He took in his surroundings. He was in the back of a canopied truck. It was moving.

Someone moaned beside him. He looked down and saw Catherine lying at his side. She was trying to wake up.

Before his captives grabbed him from behind and placed a rag dipped in chloroform over his mouth, it had been a small comfort to know that she was by his side, as she had always been.

TBC


	2. A Bad Dream

**AN**: Here's the next installement. Thank you to everyone for the great reviews I got. I'm glad you like the story so far. I like feedback, so R&R. Thanks again!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Summary: They were trapped, far from humanity in a prison cell where no one could possibly reach them. Their only consolation was that they were together.

Chapter Two: A Bad Dream

"Where is he? God damn it, where is he?" Sara Sidle screamed as she ran through the lab to meet her former shift-mates. She was frantic. She had heard that he was missing. First her, now him.

"Sara! Ssh, calm down," Nick set down the box of evidence that he was holding so he could grab her shoulders to try to steady her.

"Nick, where is he?" she cried, fighting back her pain.

"I don't know, Sara. But we'll find them. I promise," he said as soothingly as possible. She whimpered and her friend pulled her close to him. Nick knew how much Grissom meant to Sara. There had been rumours circulating about the two of them for years. Nick had hoped that they weren't true, yet only a few weeks ago, after Sara had been kidnapped and pinned under a car, Grissom had revealed his relationship with his younger co-worker, forcing Sara to move to the swing-shift. Nick still didn't know how to feel about this new romance, but he only wanted to see his friends happy. He had only seen Sara upset once, and he never wanted to see her like that again.

"We're going to go process. I'll be in autopsy," Warrick announced moving past them with a box of evidence in his arms. He flashed her a small, reassuring smile. Greg followed him, but stopped to give Sara's arm a little squeeze on his way by.

Despite everything she was feeling, she appreciated everything her friends did for her.

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"Any word on Gil and Catherine?" Dr. Al Robbins questioned as Warrick walked into the morgue.

"No," Warrick sighed desperately, "Please tell me you have something helpful, Doc," he pleaded.

"I'll try," Robbins told him, "Kitchner was shot from a distance. I'll know more about the calibre when I extract the bullet, but I think that it's safe to say that it was a sniper shot."

"How does that help Griss and Cath?" Warrick questioned, "If it was a sniper, why didn't he just shoot them all? Why did he take them?" he sounded lost.

"I don't know, Warrick," Robbins sighed, "I just don't know. Have their families been informed?"

"Sara knows…but Lindsey and Cath's mom…" Warrick didn't even want to think about telling Lindsey Willows that her mother was missing. It would break both her heart and his.

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Catherine felt as though she was floating. He eyes shifted in and out of focus. It was dark, but she was laying on something soft and warm. She thought she could make out a person in the distance, but it swam in and out of focus. Then she passed out again as her head connected with something hard.

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Time was not working properly. It was moving in slow motion. Lindsey Willows watched as her grandmother slowly brought a hand to her mouth. She watched as Warrick slowly reached for a box of tissues and offered them to Lily. His face was contorted in pain as he watched slow sobs wrack Lily Flynn's aged body.

Lindsey felt like she was going to be sick. She stumbled out of her chair and wrenched open the door. She ran through the hall towards the bathroom, her hand over her mouth. She just made it to the toilet in time.

It couldn't be true. This was all just a bad dream and in a moment, she would wake up and be safe at home with her mother just in the next room. Her mom was all she had left. Her father was dead. She couldn't lose Catherine. She needed her mom. There was so much that Lindsey had never told her, and now, she might never get the chance.

Lindsey approached the sink and gripped the sides as if the porcelain would hold her as her legs continued to shake. She took great, steadying gasps to calm herself.

She didn't know how long she stood there before she moved towards the door and stepped into the bustling halls. She slowly walked towards the break room where her grandmother and Warrick were.

She stopped when she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. She whirled around to come face to face with Greg Sanders. He looked lost. He looked how she felt. His boyish grin was absent, replaced with a mask full of cracks. Lindsey could see that he was just as upset as she was, only he was trying not to show it.

"Are you okay, Linds?" he asked hollowly. She straightened herself and put on her bravest face.

"I-" she couldn't get the words out. Her throat was constricted, fighting against the sob threatening to come. Greg understood. He simply pulled her into a warm hug, hoping against hope that Grissom and Catherine would make it out of this alive, for everyone's sake.

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Catherine's eyes opened slowly, painfully taking in her surroundings. She was laying on top pf someone. She turned her head to look at her companion. A small smile played on her face as she realized that it was Gil. He was beginning to wake from his slumber. She looked up from her position and found herself staring into an odd array of colours. It was dark, yet there were tinges of blues and greens throughout the room. It was a lovely sight.

"Catherine?" Gil called out to her. His voice was hoarse.

"I'm right here, Gil," she answered, her own voice quite shaky. He looked down his body to where her head rested on his shoulder.

"Hi," he mumbled, "Do you know where we are?" he asked, looking around the odd place they were laying in.

"I don't know," she replied, attempting to sit up. Her head collided painfully with a Plexiglas cover.

"Arg!" she grunted, placing a hand to her head. Gil woke up real fast. His hands rose to meet the Plexiglas cover. Then he attempted to stretch out, but his arms hit two clear sides about three feet apart. He looked around and he could see the clear glass at his feet and the side above his head. They were trapped.

"We're in a coffin!" he breathed, frantically trying to beat at the Plexiglas with his hands.

"What?!" Catherine joined him on his panic and hit the sides of their prison, but to no avail. They screamed for help, but no one came.

TBC


	3. Searching For Something To Go On

**AN**: I like writing cliffhangers. Thats really all that this story is. One giant cliffhanger. Please review. I'd like feedback.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Summary: They were trapped, far from humanity in a prison cell where no one could possibly reach them. Their only consolation was that they were together.

Chapter Three: Searching For Something To Go On

"Cath! Catherine, stop!" Gil was able to grab her wrists to keep her from struggling. Their screams were unanswered and it was no use to continue to beat the sides of their cage.

"G-Gil, we have to get out of here!" she croaked, her voice hoarse from screaming.

"It's not going to budge, Catherine," he told her, panting slightly, "It'll be no good to use up all of our energy."

"Gil, we have to get out of here!" she argued, "If we don't…God, Gil, you know what almost happened to Nick," her voice shook as she tried to get out of his firm grasp.

"I know, Cath," he said, "But Nick was calm. We have to do the same, Catherine. We have to keep our heads, otherwise…we won't make it," he tried reasoning with her, but those words were meant for him as much as they were meant for her. She stopped struggling and let out a shaky breath.

"Gil…I-I don't want to die," she whimpered, "Lindsey-"

"We can't think like that, Catherine," he interrupted her, "Besides, our guys probably know that were missing by now. You know that they're going to do everything that they can to find us. We've taught them well."

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"Can't we speed this up, Arch?" Nick questioned, motioning to the screen, "We need to do this quick."

"Nick, we're lucky there was even an operating camera outside that motel. We may have to sort through hours of videotape before we come across anything remotely relevant," Archie Johnson, the resident AV analyst, reminded the CSI.

"I know," Nick amended, "But we don't know how much time Griss and Cath have. We have to go through these tapes as quickly as possible."

"That's what I'm trying to do, buddy," Archie told him, carefully scanning the video for any sign of Grissom and Catherine or their kidnappers.

"There's a print," Greg's swift voice made both men jump.

"What?" Nick asked, unsure if he had heard his younger co-worker right, "A finger-print?" he asked, rising from his seat.

"Off of the bucket," Greg replied, "It came back to Chris Bezich, owner of the club, the Acid Drop."

"Why do I feel like I know that name?" Nick questioned. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he was sure that he had heard the name somewhere.

"Remember the Trent case from three and a half years ago? It was one of the first times I was called out into the field. Millionaire and his trophy wife were found dead in the drive-way. The investigation lead to the Acid Drop," Greg reminded him, "I'm meeting Brass at the club. You coming?"

"No, I've got to help Archie sort through these tapes. Keep me posted," Nick requested. Greg saluted him and left.

"Nick, I got something," Archie announced suddenly. Nick leaned in for a closer look at the screen. He watched as two people approached a truck with a canopy. With a jolt, he realized that over their shoulders, the people were carrying two very familiar figures.

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"I'm sorry, Warrick. Everything about this bullet has been tampered with," Bobby Dawson explained, "The barrel of the gun was altered, leaving us with unique striations, however, without the original gun, we're out of luck."

"You have got to be kidding me," Warrick sighed, staring through the microscope at the bullet Doc Robbins had extracted from Kitchner's head.

"It's a .308, standard for most rifles, but other than that, its not unique," Bobby joined Warrick in his despair, "I wish I could do more to help find Grissom and Catherine, Warrick, but I don't have anything else."

"Bobby, this whole case is turning into a nightmare," Warrick sighed, shaking his head, wishing that he could do more for his co-workers.

"Warrick! We found the vehicle!" Nick panted as he rushed into the Ballistics lab, "It went west!"

Warrick's head snapped up, "Let's send out an APB. You got the make?"

"Yeah, but I couldn't get a licence plate number," Nick answered. Warrick shrugged.

"Something's better than nothing, Nick," he said, following his friend out of the lab, where he almost ran into Sara.

"Have you guys found anything?" she asked hopefully. Nick nodded.

"We've got a vehicle and a suspect," he told her. Her expression became more and more hopeful, as she went with them to call a detective.

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"Where's Bezich?" Brass demanded. The bartender of the Acid Drop seemed a little stunned, but pointed to the back once the surly detective flashed his badge. Greg, Brass, and several uniformed cops barged into the back room, however, Bezich was no where to be seen.

"Did he do a runner?" Greg asked, gazing around the room for any signs of the elusive club owner.

"We'll see about that," Brass growled as he flew back to the bar and shouted at the bartender, "Where the hell is he? He's not in the back, and so help me, if you are covering for him, I'll have you arrested for obstruction of justice!" he threatened. The bartender backed up in response.

"Hey, as far as I know, Chris is still here!" he cried defensively, "His car is still in the parking lot. I just got off of my break and it was still parked out back! Go have a look for yourself! It's the white convertible."

"I'll do just that!" Brass shot at him. Greg was fast on his heels as the detective rushed towards the back parking lot. They found Bezich's car, but no sign of Bezich.

"Son of a bitch," Brass cursed, staring at the convertible in frustration. He paced the lot in an effort to calm himself. Greg, on the other hand, caught something as he surveyed the scene. He knelt down to look closer at the bumper of the car. The same putrid smell from the alley-way wafted from the red drops on the white paint.

"There's blood on the bumper," Greg called to Brass, "Pop the trunk."

"You heard him," Brass motioned to one of the uniforms as he approached Greg. The uniformed officer did as he was told, and Brass and Greg were met with the sight of Chris Bezich, bound and gagged in his own trunk.


	4. So Helpless

**AN**: This is the last chapter that bears similarities to Grave Danger. Then things really start to twist.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Summary: They were trapped, far from humanity in a prison cell where no one could possibly reach them. Their only consolation was that they were together.

Chapter Four: So Helpless

It had been six hours since she and Gil had been in that alley-way. She knew, because she had her watch. Six hours and four minutes.

"Stop," he companion requested after he saw her look at her watch for the umpteenth time. She turned her head slightly and looked at him.

"What?" she questioned. He was laying there, looking at the blue-green hues in the darkness.

"Stop looking at your watch," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do, Gil? I feel so helpless," she sighed, letting her left hand fall to her side.

"Staring at your watch won't help. You'll drive yourself crazy counting down the minutes," he told her, turning his head ever so slightly to look at her.

"I just want out," she admitted, turning her head so that he wouldn't see the tears of frustration forming in her eyes. He continued to look at her for a moment before he lay back and started through the top of their prison to where he could make out a bit of light amongst the darkness.

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Chris Bezich was helpless. His confident smirk and devilish charms were absent as he was released from the ropes binding his hands and feet.

"Want to tell me what went down here, Mr. Bezich?" Greg asked, bagging the section of rope that was used to tie the other man up.

"I don't know how long I was in there," Bezich sighed, "I was hit over the head, and when I woke up, I was the back of my trunk," he explained.

"You didn't happen to get a look at your attackers, did you?" Greg questioned, surveying the scene as he waited for a response. Bezich shook his head.

"N-no…I was back here waiting for a delivery…and…wait!" Bezich started, "One of them…he had a grey triangle tattoo on the back of his hand…I saw it when I turned around to see what the noise was behind me."

"Anything else?" Greg prodded. Bezich shook his head.

"Alright, Mr. Bezich, can you explain your print on this pail?" Greg asked, showing Bezich a photograph of the white pail covered in fish blood.

"No, I can't," Bezich shrugged. Brass sidled up to them.

"Think harder," he demanded. Bezich was incredulous.

"It's a pail!" he exclaimed, "What is the big deal?"

"The big deal is that that pail is evidence in a case involving two missing CSIs," Brass barked, "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"No!" Bezich exclaimed, then his face morphed into concern, "This isn't about…uh…Catherine, is it?" he asked.

"How do you know Catherine?" Greg fired at him.

"We dated three years ago. Don't you people communicate?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"And how did that end?" Brass completely ignored the last bit.

"I run a nightclub," Bezich sighed, as if this were a sufficient answer, "What did she expect? Domesticity?"

Greg resisted the urge to sock the guy. He may not have known much about Catherine Willows's personal life, but he did know that when she gave a guy the time of day, she expected him to be faithful. She must have been crushed to find out that Bezich cheated on her. He let Brass continue with the interrogation and approached the car to search for anymore evidence. He titled his head slightly in curiosity as he reached further into the trunk and found an envelope. He looked for an address, but found nothing, yet the words printed on the front of the envelope sent chills up his spine.

'RE: Willows and Grissom'

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"Do we know what's inside it?" Warrick asked, staring down at the yellow envelope Greg recovered. The envelope was in the center of the table with all four CSIs staring down at it.

"I waited on you guys," Greg swallowed. He looked to his companions, gathered around the observation table, and it scared him slightly that only two years ago, they had stared down at a similar package, only it had been about Nick and Grissom and Catherine were there. He felt that same knot in his stomach as he watched Nick take a knife and open it. Pictures fell out. With a jolt, he realized that they were of Grissom and Catherine.

"What the…" Sara trailed off, flipping through the pictures.

The four of them exchanged incredulous looks. There was a picture of Grissom and Catherine, leaning on a pier of some sort. It must have been a long time ago. They looked a lot younger. There was another one of Grissom, Catherine, and a then-six-year-old Lindsey in a park. There was a picture of the entire team, save for Greg, eating breakfast in a diner.

"That was after the Strip Strangler case," Warrick said, examining the photograph. There was another one that captured the backs of Catherine and Griss's heads at a movie theatre. Another one showed Grissom handing a dead baby to Catherine. There was one of them having drinks. Another showed them standing together, hovering over Nick's would-be grave.

"Who was there?" Nick asked, aghast, "It was all uniformed officers!"

"I don't know, Nicky," Warrick breathed. There were two pictures left. One was of Catherine and Grissom at their ill-fated crime-scene. Catherine had tripped and Grissom had leant over to help her up. The next photograph made their hearts stop. Sara's hand flew to her lips to stop the tremor. Warrick couldn't take his eyes off of the photo. Greg was speechless. And Nick turned and vomited in the nearest garbage.

Catherine and Grissom were unconscious, lying together in a Plexiglas coffin.

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"I wonder what they're doing right now," Catherine voiced. Grissom turned his head a fraction of an inch.

"Please don't start doing that," he requested. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm just wondering," Catherine said defensively, "Its what one tends to do when one is trapped in a glass coffin with someone who barely breathes, let alone talks."

He shot her a look.

"Come on, Gil," she pleaded, "Can't you just see the guys working hard at the case? It's what they do best, after all. Nicky's probably combing surveillance footage. Warrick'll be in ballistics with the bullet…"

Grissom had to admit that it put a smile on his face when he thought of his guys.

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"What kind of sick fuck is this?" Nick questioned, feeling the urge to fling something across the room.

"Whoever it is has been watching them for a long time," Greg sighed, "A really long time."

"How come we've never noticed anything?" Sara's voice shook. Warrick shook his head.

"From the looks of these pictures, only Griss or Cath would have noticed," he said grimly. Then something caught his eye. On the back of the last picture, there was writing. It was a link to a internet address. Without hesitation, he grabbed the nearest computer.

"What are you doing?" Nick asked as they crowded around him. Warrick typed the address in and instantly, a video popped onto the screen. Familiarity gripped Warrick, Sara, and Greg. For the second time, they were staring hopelessly into a live video at their friends struggling for life.

TBC


	5. From Bad To Worse

**AN**: I'm hoping that this next chapter does what I want it to do. I tried to make it believable. Please R&R to cheer me up. God I hate midterms.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Chapter Five: From Bad To Worse

"…and Greggo…he's probably doing a perfect analysis of the evidence," Catherine continued, smiling.

"He's come a long way," Grissom agreed, thinking of their spiky-haired colleague.

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"She said my name," Greg announced. The other three looked at him.

"You read lips now?" Warrick asked, raising an eyebrow. Greg shook his head.

"I'm not Grissom, but I do know when someone says 'Greggo'," he explained, his boyish grin creeping onto his face as he watched the conversation between his supervisors.

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"Sara's probably inserted herself into the case by now," Grissom added. He felt Catherine stiffen at the mention of Sara's name.

"What was that?" he asked, turning to look at her. She feigned surprise.

"What?" she asked, shifting so she could see his face.

"You flinched when I said Sara!" he accused. She raised her eyebrows.

"I did not!"

"Bull, Cath!" he shot at her, "What is your problem with her?" he demanded.

"I don't have a problem with her," she said through gritted teeth.

"Liar," he said coldly. She gaped at him.

"Don't call me a liar!" she shot back.

"Then don't lie to me," he said lowly and dangerously. She bit back a retort. In the logical portion of her brain, she knew that fighting was the last thing that they should be doing, not here, at least.

"Just leave it," she growled, moving to roll over so that she wasn't facing him. He let out a bitter chuckle.

"No. You want to talk, let's talk," he said stubbornly, "What's the problem, Cath? Because you haven't remarked on my relationship with Sara yet, and we both know how much you enjoy talking about our personal lives," he stated. She glared at him. Where did he get off being so high and mighty?

"What am I supposed to say, Gil?" she asked bluntly, "I'm happy for you? Or how about I'm glad you risked you job for _her_? Better yet, thank you for lecturing me and reprimanding me about personal and professional integrity, and then you go and sleep with your subordinate!" she yelled, her bottled up rage exploding as she finally said what she had longed to say to him from the moment she found out about him and Sara.

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"Oh, shit," Nick muttered.

"What?" Sara asked, taking her eyes from the screen.

"Cath's got that look," he said. They all looked and knew that when Catherine looked like that, somebody was in trouble.

"Now I'm really worried," Greg gulped, "They're gonna kill each other in that box."

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"You fault me for having a life?" Grissom shot at her, hitting the Plexiglas.

"No, I fault you for being a fucking hypocrite!" she countered, "Tell me one thing, Grissom. Why would you, of all people, compromise your own integrity, especially after all the times you've lectured me about it? We all live in glass houses and you've got to be careful where you take your shower. Wasn't that what you said to me?"

"I…you have no…" the words wouldn't come out.

"What, nothing to say to that?" she asked. He glared at her.

"I'm sorry that I'm stuck here with you," he growled before he flipped over so that his back was to her. He didn't see the hurt that crossed over her face.

"I'm glad you're miserable," she said coldly, through the pain that she was feeling, "Now you know how I've felt every day for the past 23 years," she spoke, but her voice gave no indication of the tears spilling out of her eyes. She turned on her side, her back to his.

And Grissom felt like he had lost his best friend and he knew that it was all his fault that she had said those words that tore him in two. It was all his fault.

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"I think they did more than kill each other," Nick stated as he watched the two supervisors lay back to back. Catherine had brought a hand to her face and was wiping a tear. Grissom looked like he was fighting back his own.

"I wonder what they said," Sara said, frowning as she peered at the pair, trying to get some sort of read on what had transpired. She had a sinking feeling that it had had something to do with her. No matter how hard she, or anyone else, for that matter, tried to figure Grissom and Catherine out, the task was impossible because both had gotten too good at raising up defensive shields.

"Guys? What was in the package?" Brass questioned from the door upon seeing them all huddled around a monitor. Warrick moved aside and beckoned Brass inside. The detective stood there in shock as he saw his friends laying back to back in a Plexiglas coffin.

"Where are they?" he questioned.

"No idea," Warrick told him, "The address for the website was on the back of this," he explained, showing the picture of Grissom and Catherine unconscious in the coffin, "Along with these," he continued, showing Brass the other photos.

"What the hell?" Brass questioned, flipping through the disturbing photographs.

"Someone has been watching them for a long time," Nick added, "There's a picture of us having breakfast after that Strip Strangler case and a few from even before that."

Brass flipped through the photographs, but paused when he came upon the one of Grissom giving a dead baby to Catherine, "Does anybody know if there was any shots taken of the crowd at this scene?" he asked, holding up the picture.

"I'll look in the evidence archives," Warrick volunteered.

"If you find anything, compare it to the photos that were taken at my scene," Nick told him.

"Will do," Warrick left the room.

"Greg, I was coming to see you, actually," Brass said, "I just finished talking to Bezich and his lawyer. Remember how he said that he had been waiting for a delivery?"

"Yeah, why?"

"He was expecting an order of sushi to serve as part of a theme night," Brass revealed. Greg raised his eyebrows.

"Got a company?" he asked.

"'Feeding Frenzy'. It's a company that operates out of California. They buy fish from fishermen and, for an extra fee, they deliver their products," he explained. Greg nodded.

"Let's give 'Feeding Frenzy' a call," he suggested, "Something seems fishy here."

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Warrick laid down each photo as if he was dealing out Blackjack. The Winston case was tragic. He hated seeing dead kids. He set aside the photos of baby Joshua Winston and focused on the shots of the crowd.

"Need a hand?" Nick asked, knocking on the doorframe of the layout room.

"Sure. Do you want to take the pictures from your scene?" Warrick asked. Nick nodded curtly and set to work. They worked in silence until Nick spoke.

"Is…is that what it was like when…I was-"

"Yeah," Warrick said swallowing, "I never wanted to see anyone in that position again…and now…Griss and Cath…they-they made it better when you were in their position…" he sighed heavily. Nick nodded.

"We'll find them, 'Rick," he said, "We have to."

"Yeah," Warrick busied himself with the photographs. Nick looked through the photos of his own crime scene. He came across a face that he did not recognize near the edge of the crowd. The man wasn't in uniform, however. He looked like a reporter. Nick took a magnifying glass and examined the man. He looked like an average guy. He had brown hair, fairly tall, with a muscular build. In his right hand, there was a camera. Nick could make out a grey triangle on the back of his hand.

"Hey, Warrick, check this out," he requested, pointing to the man in the picture. Warrick looked at the man and then turned back to the crime scene photos. Then, a little ways away from the scene, sitting in the front seat of a blue car, was the same man, holding a camera in the hand with the grey triangle.

"Let's talk to Brass," Warrick suggested, grabbing both photographs.

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"I don't see how you can get off suspecting my workers in this," Markus White, owner of 'Feeding Frenzy' fish market said through the phone after Brass asked for an employee log.

"Listen, Mr. White, two lives hang in the balance here," Brass stated firmly, "And if either of them die because of this, I will make it my business to hold you responsible," he threatened. Greg listened with rapt attention across from the detective.

"I don't believe my workers are responsible for this," White said, hesitantly, "but I will cooperate. I will fax you an employee list and their whereabouts last night. After all, as you put it, two lives hang in the balance," he consented. A grin broke out on Brass's face.

"The Las Vegas Crime Lab thanks you for your cooperation, sir," he thanked him and hung up the phone.

"You really think that a fish delivery boy is behind this?" Greg asked, "Why would 'Feeding Frenzy' stalk Grissom and Catherine?"

"Some people are wack-jobs, Greg," Brass shrugged.

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Catherine was still lying on her side, her back to Grissom. They hadn't said a word to each other in over two hours. His words still stung. When had they gotten to the point that they aimed to hurt each other? There was a time that they would never judge each other or dream of saying those hurtful things. There was a time when they were so close that they could finish each other's sentences and realize what the other needed without words. There was a time when they were best friends and nothing could come between them. Somewhere through the years they had lost sight of everything. They had started arguing and criticizing, only lately, 'sorry' was that one word that they never said anymore. No more truces, no make-ups…just words that cut her deep inside, scarring her. Just words that she said to hurt him as much as he had hurt her.

Grissom felt cold. He felt like she had shot him point blank and the bullet was circulating in his chest and shredding his heart into little pieces. He had only said what he said because she was right. He was pathetic. He was a hypocrite. Even he couldn't blame her for hating him. He'd never tell her that, though; he was too proud and too much of a coward. And those two traits had cost him what was once the most important thing in his life: there relationship. It had never been more than friends, but she had been right by his side through everything, and was more than a friend. He fought back the memories he had of her before things had gone bad, memories that he'd cherish forever, because after their great friendship, those memories were all that he was left with. He tried to focus on the beams of light shining in the green-blue hue. It only made him feel worse about everything.

It made him feel even worse when he saw a shadow outside their prison. Now he was really scared.

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"Thought you could use a coffee," Greg said, handing Sara a cup of his best blend. She smiled at took it.

"How'd the fish place pan out?" she questioned. He shrugged.

"Brass is looking for any employees with a rap sheet who may have had something against Grissom or Catherine," he answered. Sara shook her head.

"It's a shot in the dark," she said bitterly, "They stopped looking at Bezich?"

"He was stuffed in his trunk. His print on the bucket wasn't in the fish blood. I had to use print powder. It could have been from a previous shipment and someone was trying to lead us to Bezich so we could find the pictures. He just doesn't have a motive, Sara. He cheated on Cath, not the other way around," he replied.

"How are they doing?" Nick called through the open door, concern written all over his face. Warrick was beside him.

"They seem okay," Sara replied, looking back at the screen, "They still aren't talking," she sighed, looking back at the screen with dismay. They were all in agreement that Catherine and Grissom's fight only made things worse. Everyone present, even Sara, had to agree that everything went a lot smoother when Grissom and Catherine worked as a unified front.

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Catherine stopped thinking. It was all that she could do not to cry. She wouldn't cry in front of him. She stared out the side of their prison, and was shocked when something swam across her view. It was a form she recognized from one of her favourite movies of all time. It was a form that scared her to death.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, not caring that he could hear the fear in her voice as the thing moved closer to their prison. She felt his back against hers and felt him roll over. She did the same and saw the same panic in his eyes.

TBC


	6. Cause For Panic

**AN**: So here you get the cause for their panic. And what a cause it it.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Chapter Six: Cause For Panic

"How'd the picture search go?" Greg asked, trying to take everyone's mind off of the fact that their supervisors weren't getting along.

"Check it out," Warrick entered the room and showed them the pictures of the man with the grey triangle on his hand. Greg took a picture and looked closely at it.

"The triangle…" he breathed.

"What about it?" Nick asked.

"Bezich said that he saw a grey triangle on the back of his attacker's hand," Greg explained, "This is our guy."

"We were just going to get this to Brass to-"

"They're panicking!" Sara cut across Warrick. They bolted to the screen and saw Catherine and Grissom screaming and clawing in vain at the glass. The fear on their faces scared their colleagues more than anything.

"No, No, No…" Warrick breathed, feeling utterly helpless as he watched them panic, "Not now…you guys were doing so good!"

"What's freaking them out?" Greg asked, leaning closer to see if he could see the cause of their terror.

"They were fine a minute ago!" Sara cried in frustration.

"Hold it," Nick said calmer than he felt, "Look!" he explained, moving himself to the chair in front of the keyboard. He thought he had seen something on the other side of the glass. He clicked the mouse and zoomed in on a section of glass.

"You don't think it's ants, do you?" Greg asked as he watched Nick work. With bated breath, the four of them intensely watched the section of glass. Then a long shadow slinked by. It was big, with a pointed nose, a lifeless black eye, and a dorsal fin.

"Holy SHIT! It's a shark!" Warrick screamed, stepping back.

"Oh, God!" Sara choked out, her hand covering her open mouth. Greg pulled her close to him as Nick reached back and grasped her free hand as they watched in horror as this threat scared their friends to death.

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"God! I need out!" Catherine cried, breathing fast and hard as she pounded on the glass. She was crying and she didn't even care that Gil could see her. He paid no attention to her tears as he panicked and clawed at the sides. It was no use. He lay on his back panting as he stared through the top of their prison at the swarm of sharks gathered over their prison.

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"Brass!" Nick called as he ran down the halls towards the detective's office. Warrick was at his heels.

"What's up, guys?" Brass questioned as the two men panted in his doorway.

"They're in the ocean!" Warrick cried, "There's sharks all around them! They're panicking and screaming and-"

"The ocean?" Brass yelped, leaping to his feet.

"We've got to get to them, Jim!" Nick pleaded desperately, "We have to get them out of there!"

"I'm on it," Brass was immediately on the phone with his contacts in Los Angeles. It seemed logical, based on the time frame, that the most likely ocean was the Pacific. Warrick and Nick waited semi-patiently. Then something came to Warrick.

"The grey triangle…it's a shark fin…" he said in realization.

"Shark fin?" Brass questioned, listening to the phone ring on the other end.

"We found a common bystander in the photos," Nick hastily explained, "He has a grey triangle tattoo on his right hand. Greg said Bezich saw someone with a matching tattoo."

"Jesus Christ…" he trailed off, "Pack your gear up, boys," he ordered, "We're going to California."

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"Cath! Catherine!" Grissom shouted over her cries. She was hysterical. Seeing the terror in her face had sobered him. Her panicked breathing made a fog on the Plexiglas. He was scared that she was going to kill herself.

"NOOO!" she sobbed as a shark swam close to her side of the coffin. She clenched her eyes shut and whimpered.

"Cath, shh," he said as soothingly as possible, "Come on, Catherine. Come here," he pulled her trembling form close to him so the her head was buried in his chest. He felt her tears on his shirt.

"I-I don't want to die!" she sobbed, gripping his shirt tightly in her fists, forgetting all about their previous argument. When the fear took hold, she wanted the one who had always chased away her demons all those years ago.

"Catherine, I…I'm so sorry," his voice shook as blinked back his tears as he stared up at the underside of the animals that threatened their existence.

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"What's going on?" Lily Flynn questioned as she and her granddaughter watched the CSIs pack their gear into a Denali.

"Ms. Flynn-" Warrick started.

"Where are you going, Warrick? What about my mom?" Lindsey demanded.

"Lindsey-" Greg's tone was grave. She cut across him too.

"What do you know? Is she okay?" she questioned, "P-Please, Greg."

Greg didn't have the heart to resist her, yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her of her mother's fate.

"We're going to try to find her, Linds," he answered, "She's with Grissom and…well they're okay…for now."

"But where are you going?" Lily begged. Warrick hesitated.

"We think that they're being held captive in California," he admitted. Shock was evident on both Lindsey and Lily's faces.

"How do you know?" Lily asked, "What if you're wrong?"

"We…we know the manor that they're being held," Greg told her. There was something in his voice that scared Lindsey.

"Prove it," she demanded, "I want to know…" Panic flashed on Warrick and Greg's faces. They didn't want to show Lindsey the video of her mother struggling in the coffin. However, they both knew that Lindsey was stubborn, like Catherine, and wouldn't yield until she got what she wanted. Warrick let out a shaky breath.

"She's in a Plexiglas box with Grissom. They are somewhere on the bottom of the ocean with sharks swimming around them," he explained. Lily grasped her granddaughter's shoulders hard. Lindsey didn't even feel the pain in her shoulders.

"There's a website…it shows a live feed of them. You don't want to see it," Greg added, shaking his head.

"Guys! Come quick!" Sara called from the AV lab. Warrick and Greg weren't able to stop Lindsey from rushing into the room.

Below the video of Grissom holding a trembling Catherine, words flashed on the screen.

"'Entertained? Scared? Well, you'd better hope like Hell that none of those sharks take bite out of the air tube keeping Grissom and Willows alive. That would be unfortunate,'" Nick read.

"That's the only communication that we've got from the sick bastards and this is what they tell us?!" Nick asked angrily, "This is Bullshit!" he shouted.

"M-mom…" Lindsey whimpered as she stared at her mother sobbing into Gil Grissom's chest. Greg pulled her close to him, allowing her to cry on his chest. Sara couldn't help but empathize with the teenager as she stared into the screen.

TBC


	7. Always There

**AN**: Just a nice little background chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Chapter Seven: Always There

Catherine's eyes felt heavy as she willed them open. The first thing that she saw was not the ocean of fins through the glass; it was the navy blue of Gil Grissom's shirt. She inhaled his familiar sent and smiled softly. She lifted up her head and looked around, but immediately buried her face back in his chest. The sharks scared her more than she cared to admit.

The next time she brought her face away from Grissom was when she hazarded a look at her watch. It was 10:21 AM. They had responded to the crime scene at 5:42 AM. They had been missing for almost five hours. She sighed miserably.

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"So why are we headed to L.A?" Warrick asked, looking over at Brass, "There are miles of ocean all along the California coast-line."

"Because that is where 'Feeding Frenzy' is located," Brass answered, not taking his eyes off of the road. Warrick looked in surprise.

"Did you find something with the employee lists?" he asked.

"We hit pay-dirt," Sofia Curtis announced from the backseat of Brass's Taurus, "Jim spoke to his contacts in L.A while I cross-checked some employees of 'Feeding Frenzy'. There are two employees formally from Vegas, Nate Haynes and Norm Lester. And they both have done jail time. Haynes for robbery in 1994 and Lester for obstruction of justice in '92. Guess who worked both cases," she requested. Warrick looked back at her.

"Griss and Cath?" he asked incredulously. She nodded.

"Lester was actually kicked out of the military for it," she confirmed. Warrick shook his head.

"Let me guess: he was a sharp-shooter," he said.

"One of the best," she sighed, "Apparently, he relocated to L.A after he got out of prison. And another interesting tidbit about Haynes; he is the proud owner of a 2003 Chevy Avalanche, the same vehicle Nick caught in the Surveillance footage."

"This is getting good," Warrick commented, staring straight ahead.

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Catherine lay quietly at Gil's side for a long time. She felt immeasurable gratitude for him keeping her calm. If it hadn't been for him, she probably would have hyperventilated. Even after all the things she said, he still rose up and protected her from herself. That was just like him though. In the old days, he was always protecting her.

_She stood at his doorstep, sobbing, as she knocked on the door. From inside the apartment, she heard him stumbling around. The door opened and he was standing there, his hair tussled and clad in sweats and a grey t-shirt. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed. She felt guilty._

"_Catherine?" he asked, his voice hoarse. _

"_Gil, I-" she broke down. Alarm flashed across his face as he watched her, barely dressed, in six-inch heels, wearing far too much make-up. The mascara dripped down with her tears._

"_Catherine, it's okay," he said softly, pulling her close, "Ssh."_

"_St-Stephanie-" her voice broke his heart._

"_I know, Catherine," he sighed, shutting the door, "I know."_

"_She's gone!" Catherine sobbed into him, He could do nothing but hold her._

She never knew how long she had sobbed before she had fallen asleep in his arms the night she found out that her best friend was dead. All she knew was that when she awoke, he was right there, sitting on the floor while she slept on the couch, covered with a blanket.

"_Gil?" she questioned. He turned and looked up at her._

"_Hey," he said softly, "How are you?"_

"_I've been better," she admitted. He handed her a glass of water, which she readily accepted. They were silent for a long time before he spoke._

"_How long until you are finished at the club?" he asked, looking at his fingers._

"_Two more months," she responded. She didn't know how she was going to make those last two months before she quit dancing and started her job as a CSI. She felt like she couldn't go on now that Stephanie was gone._

"_You couldn't leave sooner?" he asked, looking up at her with a hopeful look on his face._

"_I need to make as much money as I can before I become an intern," she shrugged, "Why?"_

"_I…I wish you'd stop," he confessed. She looked at him with shock on her face. He'd never told her what to do before._

"_What's it to you, Gil?" she asked harsher than she'd intended._

"_I just wish you would," he said. She shook her head and got to her feet. He stood up in alarm._

"_Where do you get off telling me what to do?" she yelled, "I just lost my best friend and you're preaching to me!"_

"_I'm not, Cath!" he argued, "I just want what's best-"_

"_Save it!" she shot at him, walking to the door._

"_Where are you going?" he asked, following her._

"_Eddie," she answered, slamming the door in his face on his way out._

She had ran out on him because the last thing she had wanted was for him to tell her what to do. She had ran to Eddie because he never told her what to do. In hindsight, she would have been better off with Gil, she thought bitterly.

_She leaned into the counter of the bathroom. Those three lines of white powder looked so inviting. They would numb her pain and she wouldn't feel the weight of Stephanie's death. She closed her eyes and prepared herself._

"_If you snort that shit, I'll never talk to you again," his voice stopped her. She opened her eyes and raised her head to look him in the eyes._

"_Gil…" she didn't know what to say. She cried despite herself._

"_I mean it, Catherine," he said firmly, "Do you think Stephanie would have wanted you to get high at her funeral?" he hissed. Her lower lip quivered as she stared up at him._

"_It's…it's so hard…"_

"_This isn't going to make it any easier, Catherine," he told her, "Cath…I don't want to have to go to your funeral too."_

"_I wish I was dead," she admitted. He shook his head._

"_No you don't," he contradicted her, "No. You want to be a great CSI, Catherine. You want to find the evidence to give closure to the victims. You want to put people like Stephanie's killer in jail."_

"_Where the Hell is my closure, Gil?" she asked. He shrugged._

"_I don't know," he admitted, "but why don't we try to find it together, huh? You're not going to find closure in coke, Cath. Come on," he coaxed her, offering her a hand. She nodded and stepped into his open embrace._

That was the smartest thing she had ever done. It was followed by the stupidest thing. A month later, she was engaged to Eddie Willows. And somehow, Gil had remained there for her, despite that stupid mistake.

If we could make it through that, we can make it through anything, she thought as she stared up at the sleeping man next to her.

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"How are they doing?" Greg asked, staring over Sara's shoulder to look at Grissom and Catherine's still forms on the laptop screen.

"I think he's still asleep, but she's awake," she announced. Lindsey looked on the screen beside her in the back seat and smiled. She and Lily had demanded that they go to L.A with them.

"Just hold on, Mom," she whispered as she watched as her mother looked up at her 'Uncle Gil'.

TBC


	8. A Dead End

**AN**: Here's an update, because again, writing is more fun than homework. I added a little humour in here, so enjoy.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Chapter Eight: A Dead End

"Gil?" Catherine whispered. He didn't answer.

"Gil?" she said a little louder, shaking him slightly. He moaned and cracked open an eye.

"What?" he questioned, looking down at her. She almost laughed at how funny he looked when he was just waking up.

"You know what I was thinking about?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"A way to get out of here?" he asked hopefully. She grinned.

"Yeah," she teased, "We break open the coffin, you swim out first to distract the sharks and then I'll swim to safety."

He could tell that she was joking, so he returned the banter, "I see one flaw with that plan."

"What?"

"When I'm gone, who's going to look after you?" he asked. She laughed and nodded.

"That's a good point," she agreed, "I don't know what I would have done without you over all these years," she admitted. He started a little and looked over at her. It almost sounded like she had forgiven him.

"Really?" he asked. Her smile was his response. He felt like the bullet had just been extracted from his chest.

"I'm sorry about what I said before, Gil," she apologized, "I really am. If anything, these past 23 years have been the best of my life."

"You know," he said, "If I had to choose anyone to be stuck in a glass box with, it'd be you," he told her, contradicting his previous comment.

"Really?" she asked. He nodded.

"You may drive me crazy, but it's a good kind of crazy," he said.

"I try," she said. He chuckled, glad that they had made amends. He had his best friend back, right when he needed her most.

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Officers Jordan Low and Leslie Boon were making their usual rounds in Newport Beach. It was a leisurely day as they drove down a residential street. All was calm.

"Nice day," Low commented looking down the road as he drove.

"Isn't it, though?" Boon replied, looking at the houses. Something caught her eye in one driveway. It was a red Chevy. She didn't know what was so odd about it, but she turned to her partner and asked, "What was the licence plate number on the truck from the APB?"

"CRO-980," he answered, "Why?"

"That's the truck!" she announced, pointing back at the house with the red avalanche.

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"They're smiling," Lindsey announced as she watched the feed on the laptop in LAPD headquarters. She had gotten over the initial shock of seeing her mother in such a compromising position. It was good to see her at all.

"Better than they were before," Nick commented, walking over to look. Catherine was laying with her head on Grissom's arm. His head was close to hers and they were talking and smiling. Nick almost grinned, but then he caught sight of the brunette watching the feed from another computer and hesitated. She looked a little lost. He walked over to her.

"Hey," she said lowly as he approached.

"We're closer to finding them and getting them home, Sar," he said, slipping an arm over her shoulder, "That's all that really matters."

"I know," she said softly as she continued to watch Grissom and Catherine together.

"They found the truck!" Brass hollered as he rushed into the room with Sofia and Annie Kramer, his old friend from Jersey.

"What?" Warrick asked, leaping to his feet.

"Two uniforms found it in a driveway in Newport Beach," Annie answered from Brass's left side.

"Who's house?" Greg asked, grabbing his jacket. It seemed too easy.

"Ben Kallum," Sofia answered from Brass's right side before Annie could, "I've checked it out; he was the arresting officer for both the Haynes and Lester cases. He retired to California with his wife."

"Son of a bitch," Warrick cursed as he followed the three detectives out the door. Greg followed.

"What about me?" Nick called after him.

"You get to sit back and relax with Sara and Lindsey," he replied, running out the door.

"It's okay, Nick," Sara shrugged, "You don't have to baby-sit."

He looked at her and rethought himself, "No, Sara. I want to stay," he said, causing her to smile slightly. He could've follow Greg and Warrick to the scene or get on the patrol boats in the harbour to find Grissom and Catherine by pure dumb luck. But he didn't. He stayed with her, and that's what mattered the most.

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"Do you remember the night we met?" Catherine asked, staring into his cerulean eyes. He smiled and nodded.

"I'll always remember that night," he replied, "It was memorable," he commented with a chuckle.

"You know, you were the only guy in the room who wasn't at the stage. I couldn't figure you out," she reminisced.

"Really?" he asked, "You saw me in the club?"

"How could I not?" she asked, "We had a bit of a staring contest when I was up on stage. Forget, old man?"

"I was just seeing if you remembered," he said, "I couldn't understand why you looked so bored when you were dancing."

"_I think I'm going to head out," he mumbled in his cousin's ear. Doug frowned._

"_It's my bachelor party, Gil!" he exclaimed, "You can't leave yet! The fun is just beginning!" _

"_Believe me, I'm having a blast, but I have to get up early for a conference-"_

"_Sleep on the plane, Gil," Doug suggested, "Maybe even have more than one beer and enjoy the show!"_

"_Hey, California! Come on, let's do a shot!" a guy in a leather jacket with way too much mousse in his hair called from the bar._

"_Comin', Ed!" Doug hollered back._

"_Who is that?" Gil asked, motioning to the man who had obviously had a few._

"_This guy I met over at the bar. He knows like all of the dancers," Doug explained, "Come on, let's go have a shot."_

"_I dunno…"_

"_Fine, whatever," Doug shrugged, and turned to join his new friend. Gil shook his head and turned to leave._

"_Now, the moment you've all been waiting for!" someone with a mike announced, "The lovely Lady Red!"_

_Gil turned around to see what all the cheering was about. She was definitely lovely as she skilfully navigated the stage, turning, twisting, swaying to the music, enticing everyone around her. He could see why they called her 'Lady Red' as her reddish blond hair flowed down her back. _

_Then his gaze caught hers, as she stared, almost bored, around the room. She had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Blue met blue, and he felt as if he had known her all of his life. Her eyes conveyed her deepest emotions. He saw passion, lust, and…boredom? Why did she look bored? Her career was obviously quite stimulating, so why was there something stifling that sparkle that he knew had to exist. Eyes like hers had to sparkle. _

_He didn't know how long he stared into her eyes before she gave him a tiny frown and turned away. He watched her movements, entranced by her grace, and intrigued by the mystery underneath her skin._

"I couldn't understand why you weren't leaving me a tip with the other nice gentlemen," she snorted, "Yet I knew you weren't gay. You don't have that look."

"What is that look, because I've been mistaken for gay?" he quizzed. She shook her head.

"Only amateurs would mistake you for gay, Gil. When I danced, I could tell right away if a man was gay or not. You were definitely not gay, what with the way you were staring," she explained, "You have a bit of staring problem, by the way."

He laughed, "I do, do I?"

"Gil, every time we have a case involving anything where clothing is optional, you become a gaping, staring idiot," she told him.

"I do not!" he denied. She raised an eyebrow.

"Alright. What about the first time we stepped into Lady Heather's dominion?" she shot at him.

"It was fascinating work," he defended.

"What about all the times we've had to interview showgirls?" she asked, "I distinctly remember having to tell you to shut your mouth once."

"Uh…"

"Or how about that nice little stripper girl who wanted you to be her mad scientist?" she teased. Okay, so she caught him.

"I can't help staring at a beautiful woman," he replied.

"No, you are just like every other man looking for a nice view. I knew that about you, at least," she said. He shook his head and laughed. They hadn't talked like this in years.

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"Clear!" Annie shouted.

"Clear!" Matt Glazer, another of LAPD's finest, called.

"Oh shit," Brass growled as he looked into the Kallum's living room, "Four bodies in the living room!" he called. The rest of the house was cleared and the cops congregated in the living room.

"Ben and Jane Kallum," Sofia sighed.

"Who are the two dudes?" Greg asked. Brass shot him a grim smile.

"Norm Lester and Nathan Haynes," he spat bitterly.

TBC


	9. Great White Sharks

**AN**: Another update. I hope you guys like it. Now things are getting more interesting. Please review. I like knowing what you guys think.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Chapter Nine: Great White Sharks

"There is no gun in this house," Warrick announced, "At least, not one that has been fired recently."

"And there is no shark fin tattoo on either Lester or Haynes," Greg added, "They did not take the pictures of Grissom and Catherine or knock Chris Bezich out."

"But is it safe to say that they'd involved?" Annie asked, putting her gun in her holster.

"I think so," Sofia answered, "It was their vehicle that we caught in the surveillance tapes. Warrick, Greg, care to do your thing?" she asked. Both men stepped up and unclasped their kits.

"Matt," Annie motioned to the LA CSI, who received a friendly nod from Warrick. He too helped process the scene.

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"_I'm leaving," Gil announced, not even waiting for Doug to say a word. He had seen the woman walk through the crowd after she had finished her dance. Without a word, she had slipped out the doors. He followed her. He had to meet her. _

_The cool air of the Las Vegas night felt refreshing after being in that stuffy club. A slight breeze caressed his face as he looked for her. Then he saw her._

"_How 'bout a ride?" a slurred, husky voice goaded her. She put on a fake smile._

"_I'm sure you're a nice guy, but no," she snapped, turning away from him. The man stumbled after her._

"_Come on, you, me, and a good time," he slurred. It made both her and Gil cringe. Without properly thinking it through, Gil stepped forwards._

"_Hey!" he called. She raised an eyebrow, a bit wary of him._

"_Hi…" she dragged the word out as she appraised him. Great, he thought, now she probably thinks she has two creeps to fend off._

"_I'm sorry I'm late," he said on a whim, "I know that we were supposed to meet…uh…five minutes ago," he invented, hoping that she got the meaningful glance. Comprehension dawned on her beautiful features._

"_You had better be sorry," she shot at him, playing along, "Hope you had a good time," she said scathingly._

"_I…no…it was a bit lame really. Bachelor parties at a strip club are…too stereotypical," he replied. The drunk man stared between them._

"_You're with 'im?" he questioned, backing up slightly._

"_Do you mind?" she asked crossly, then she turned back to Gil, "Come on, Honey," she ordered, grabbing his hand and dragging him along, "Thank you, by the way," she said once they were out of earshot, letting his hand go._

"_No problem," he shrugged, "I'm Gil, by the way."_

"_Catherine," she replied, "Have a good time in there?" she asked. He panicked. He didn't know how to answer that._

"_Uh…it was uh…"_

"_Not your thing?" she finished. He chuckled lamely._

"_Not especially," he answered, putting his hands in his pockets. They stayed in an awkward silence for a moment before she turned._

"_I guess I'm going to go," she said, "Thanks again."_

_He didn't know why he stepped up, but he did, "Can I walk you to your car?" he asked. She turned and considered him for a moment._

"_I suppose so," she accepted, "I guess chivalry isn't dead."_

"_It's dark out. And you never know," he shrugged. _

"_You're a cop, aren't you?" she questioned._

"_Why would you think that?" he asked, frowning. She shook her head._

"_The way you said that," she answered, "You looked down. You know what can happen in the dark."_

"_I do," he sighed, "And I'm a CSI, actually. More scientist then cop."_

"_Nice," she appraised, "You wouldn't happen to be good at Chemistry, would you?"_

"_Depends," he said, "Why?"_

"_I'm a student at Western UNLV," she answered, "I find atoms and ions to be more painful than strutting around in six-inch heels."_

"_I could help you, if you want," he offered, again, not thinking, "Would you like a coffee?" he asked. She chuckled._

"_Funny. My car just so happens to be parked outside the coffee place down the street," she explained. He smiled at her as they walked down the street together. Needless to say, Gil was sleeping on the plane to the conference._

"I actually thought you were trying to hit on me," she admitted, smiling as she reminisced, "If you were, you weren't very good at it."

"Was I that bad?" he asked. She laughed.

"Look at how the night ended, Gil," she told him, "I got a free cup of coffee and finished my Chemistry, while you didn't get anything."

"Correction: That night got me company in our little Plexiglas prison," he laughed, "I think I came out of it pretty good."

"Good to…AHHH!" she screamed as a curious shark swam up to her side of the box. She jumped on top pf him, her eyes tightly clenched.

"Cath, it's okay," he told her, stroking her hair, "It can't hurt you in here," he said as soothingly as possible. The shark disappeared.

"God, I hate this!" she cried through clenched teeth, resting her head on his chest.

"I know," he sighed, "So do I. Bright-side, though, this is probably the closest we're going to get to see a live shark without winding up in its mouth."

She lifted her head up and glared at him, "Some bright-side."

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"Was that because of a shark?" Lindsey asked as she watched her mother jump on Gil.

"I would believe so," Nick answered, "That's how she reacted last time."

"At least he's nice about it," Lindsey continued, "Usually he hates when people hug him."

Nick had to chuckle at that. He sobered when he saw Sara's face. She looked so conflicted.

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"This looks a little dangerous," Greg commented, producing a rifle from the back seat of the truck. Sofia took it from the young CSI and bagged it for him.

"With any luck, it'll match the bullet that we found in Kitchner, and possibly the bullets in the Kallum family," she said, reaching out for the several bags of .308 cartridges, "There's enough ammo here to take out a whole police squad."

"That's all that's up here-" Greg paused, "Hold it," he said, leaning down to pick up a white business card. The familiar logo of a shark chasing a fish greeted him. 'Feeding Frenzy.'

"It's just a business card, Greg. They were both employees," she shrugged. Greg turned it over and they saw that someone had written an address on the back of the card. He gave her a significant look.

"That's the address of Grissom and Catherine's scene," he said.

"It doesn't make sense. If they took the call, they'd have to speed to get to Vegas in time. Catherine and Grissom were abducted within five minutes," Sofia frowned. Something clicked for Greg.

"Not if they were on their way to the Acid Drop," Greg explained, "Then they got the call from Shark Guy and responded to the crime scene, and then they went and knocked Bezich out," he theorized, walking to the back of the truck and undoing the end-gate.

"How would that work?" Sofia asked, "The picture of Grissom and Catherine in the box was included in the pictures you recovered from Bezich's car."

"Because," Greg grunted, getting into the box, "They had the coffin ready to go and in the back here, so they could get Cath and Griss in it without attracting too much attention. They also had their shipment back here," he added, producing several white pails similar to that at the crime scene. Then he was silent as he picked something up off of the truck floor.

"What?" she asked craning to look. He held up two zip-ties in response. Her expression mirrored his.

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"I know that you're feeling it, Jimmy," Annie said beside him, "You must be very close."

"I've worked with both of them for years," Brass sighed, "We have to find them. Gil- Gil didn't pull the plug on me. I'm not going to pull the plug on him."

"This isn't human blood," Warrick grabbed their attention, holding a swab in one hand and a tester in the other, "It's animal. Smells like the smell out in the alley way."

Glazer took a whiff and frowned, explaining, "That's fish blood. Chum, actually," he said, "It could be what was used to lure the sharks to the box holding your friends."

"That would imply that the kidnappers are using a boat," Warrick said, "Maybe a fishing boat, if they're chumming. Jim, didn't you say that 'Feeding Frenzy' bought their fish off of local fishermen?" he asked.

With raised eyebrows, Jim looked over at Annie, "Shall we find out which fishermen?" he questioned, looking at her expectantly.

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"What do you mean by that?" Annie shot at the manager of 'Feeding Frenzy' fish market. The man shot her an annoyed look.

"Mark left for home an hour ago, like he does every Friday," he explained. Brass stepped up.

"Maybe you can help us then," he said, "We need a list of all of your suppliers," he demanded. The manager sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"Look, I'd love to help you, but I need a warrant to show you that information," he countered. Annie smiled and produced a piece of paper from her pocket.

"This do?" she asked, handing it to him. He looked it over and led Brass, Annie, and Sofia to the back office. He handed over a list. One name jumped off of the page.

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"I got a hit!" Greg shouted, startling everyone in the vicinity. Sara tore away from the computer screen and rushed with Nick and Warrick over to where Greg and Jack Toll, LAPD's fingerprint analyst, were examining a print they pulled off of the rifle.

"Let me guess: Lester?" Warrick ventured. Nick shook his head.

"More like Haynes?" he asked. Greg shook his head and opened his mouth.

"Spit it out!" Sara ordered, but instantly felt bad for snapping at him. It had been such a trying day. It was bad enough that she was watching her boyfriend struggle for life in a glass coffin, but the fact that he seemed so at ease with Catherine nagged in Sara's mind. All night, she had been telling herself that now was not the time to play the jealous girlfriend, but all the same, she couldn't shake the fact that she felt Catherine had always been her most serious competition for Grissom's heart.

"Karl White," he announced, "He was in AFIS for obstruction of justice. Guess who arrested him."

"Griss and Cath," Warrick breathed the answer everyone knew was coming.

"There's something else," Greg continued, reading from the computer screen, "He has the same last name as 'Feeding Frenzy' owner, Markus White."

"Coincidence?" Sara asked.

"A coincidence is a scientific anomaly," Greg responded, shaking his head. They all started at his Grissom-ness.

"Hold on," Warrick muttered, sitting in a chair alongside Greg and did a background check on Markus White, "Markus White, no criminal record, one of three boys born to Frank and Ellen White. Brothers names are: Karl and Charles. Karl has a record for obstruction of justice for misdirecting the cops when they came asking for his brother, Charles, for burglary and three counts of murder in 1991. After his release, Karl became a reporter for a tabloid magazine based in Las Vegas, though in the past two years, he's taken a side job as a fisherman."

"What happened to Charles?" Nick asked. Warrick looked up from the screen.

"Capitol punishment. Lethal injection," he answered, "CSIs Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows provided evidence at his trial."

"We have a name we want you to check out," Brass called from the doorway, holding a list. Annie and Sofia were on either side of him.

"Karl White?" all four CSIs said together. All three detectives started.

"Alright," Brass shrugged, "I'm not even going to ask. Now, what do we know?"

"Look at this!" Lindsey screamed from behind her laptop. She turned the screen do that the adults could see the message scrawled on the bottom of the screen:

'Two lives are hanging by an air-hose. Start hoping.'

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"Alright, bro?" Karl White called from the helm of his fishing boat. He turned to look back at his brother. The sleeves of Mark's business shirt were rolled passed his elbows and his tie was draped over his shoulder. The business man looked out of place as he scooped bloody fish-heads into the ocean, however, there was a large grin on his face.

"Never better!" Mark shouted over the engines, "For Charlie!" he exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air. All of their careful planning and years of circling their prey had finally paid off.

"For Charlie!" Karl echoed, pumping his fist in the air like his older brother, the grey fin on his hand, looking more sinister against the background of the ocean.

TBC


	10. Of Life and Death

**AN**: Enjoy this wicked chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Chapter 10: Of Life and Death

Silence had overtaken them when they decided to conserve their hoarse voices. Silence had driven him to stare at the pale face of the woman next to him. She was looking out the side of their prison, unaware that she was being watched. He enjoyed these moments where he could stare at her without her knowing. It was these moments that he saw just how much she had changed since their younger days in the '80's, where he'd devote what little free time he had to help her with her degree or take her mind off of her nights as a stripper.

Tonight, he saw all of their years together, the special moments in their lives that had brought them together. He could recall vividly her movements as she drank her coffee that night they had met. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the pride in her eyes as she showed him her new baby daughter. Every time he breathed, he felt like he was breathing in her scent as she hugged him in the hospital before his surgery. He could still feel her convulsions as she clung to him the night she had caught her husband cheating. He relived every moment spent with her as he stared down at her.

He remembered the first time he was able to enjoy a moment like this. It was the first night that he had realized that he did not know what he'd do if anything ever happened to her.

_He gently lay her on the sofa, covering her pale form with a blanket. For a moment, he stood there, looking down at her sleeping form. She had cried herself to sleep. He wondered how she had found out about Stephanie. He assumed that it was Jimmy Tadero who had been the one to drop that nasty bomb._

_He allowed himself to slink to the floor beside the sofa as he relived those past few hours. It had been a normal night until he got the call about a 419 at the French Palace. He was sure that the detectives and cops heard his heart pounding as he arrived on the scene. When he had heard about the case, he immediately thought of her. He had wondered if Eddie had gotten fed up with her dancing. He wondered if some pervert had stalked her after the show, wanting more than just a show. He wondered how he would react to seeing her slender body laying in a pool of blood, her once vibrant eyes dead and empty._

_As horrible as it sounded, he was relieved when he saw dark hair instead of Catherine's strawberry blond. The lifeless eyes were brown not blue. He had sighed in relief and processed the scene with Ecklie and Tadero._

_As he sat on the floor in his own home and gazed at her sleeping form, he realized just how broken he would have been if it had been her. She was his best friend; the only person who had taken the time the get to know him in years. _

_He knew very well that there was danger everywhere in this world. He knew he had no right to tell her that her job as an exotic dancer was wrong, but he knew that it placed her at an increased risk of winding up like Stephanie. Men ogled her every day. Some wanted more than a look. There were drunks, who got kicked out for being rowdy and violent. There were drug addicts, who could supply her with anything under the sun. There was Eddie Willows, a moron who's big mouth spelled trouble for both himself and Catherine. Hell, that club wasn't even in a good part of town, yet she insisted on parking her car at the coffee shop. He wished she'd make it easy and park somewhere where she could get in her car and go home. It was okay the times that he'd show up at the club and take her for a coffee afterwards, but it was the nights that he couldn't be there that fear gripped him with every call. Her life was precious to him; her death would devastate him._

"I told you that you had a staring problem," she said, surprising him. He sighed.

"I was thinking," he told her. She turned and looked at him.

"About what?"

"You. And the night Stephanie died," he admitted. She started.

"I thought about that too," she said, "I shouldn't have stormed out on you. You only wanted to keep me safe."

"It's okay," he shrugged, then he stared into her eyes and admitted his thoughts of that night, "When I got the call about a murder outside the French Palace, I thought that it was you. I wouldn't have been able to survive your funeral."

"I didn't know that I meant that much to you, Gil," she replied, touched by his sentiments.

"Well, you do," he revealed. They stared into each other's blue eyes for a long moment. All was still. His lips were only inches from hers. The moment was broken in an instant.

There was red in the water around them. They tore their gazes away from each other as saw chunks of blood and fish fall into the water.

"What the hell?" Catherine asked, scanning her surroundings. Grissom looked up at the top of the water, searching for the source of the bloody mess. More fish parts fell from the white underside of a boat.

"They're chumming!" Grissom cried in cold realization. They were trying to attract sharks.

Catherine screamed as a massive shark swooped in on a bloody clump of fish. She gripped his arm, hard. All of a sudden, hundreds of grey fins were thrashing towards a free meal.

"Oh my god!" Catherine breathed.

"They can't hurt us, Catherine," Gil told her, "We're in a box. They can't hurt us."

He was wrong. A long shark zoomed past to a piece of meat, his tail hitting a transparent hose. Gil and Catherine felt the prison move slightly.

"That hose…" Catherine gasped, "It's attached to here," she pointed to a small hole in her side of the coffin where she could see the air hose. There was a circular metal ring around the opening, preventing water from leaking into their prison.

"Cath!" he shouted from beside her, watching through the top as a piece of fish fell dangerously close to the tube. As soon as he said it, a shark swooped upon the meat, taking their air hose with it. With a violent shake of its head, the beast ripped the hose off of the coffin with a force so tremendous that it sent the prison and its occupants rolling across the ocean floor.

"Oh GOD!" Catherine shrieked as cold water gushed across their bodies.

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"The signal flashed out!" Lindsey cried from the backseat of the speeding Denali.

"What?" Nick asked, craning around from the front seat.

"They're back and- OH MY GOD!" Lindsey screamed, placing a hand on her mouth.

"WHAT?" Nick and Warrick yelled, as Warrick slammed on the breaks as he skidded into the marina parking lot.

"Water's gushing in!" Lindsey cried.

"Fuck!" Warrick growled, jumping out of the SUV.

"What's going on?" Brass called as he slammed his door as he, Annie, and Lily hopped out of his Taurus.

"We have to find them fast!" Nick cried, "Water's leaking into the box!"

"Oh no!" Lily gasped, her knees failing her. Annie caught her before she hit the pavement.

"Ms. Flynn and Lindsey are going to stay here!" Brass ordered, "The rest of us are going on the boat!"

Before Lindsey could protest, Nick, Greg, and Warrick broke into a run towards the docks, Sara, Brass, and Annie on their tales.

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The ocean looked like on large blue mass. The task of spotting the White brothers on the open sea seemed impossible. Sofia could see the waves rock small buoys. No one in their right mind would attempt to fish in that.

The helicopter flew over coves as waves licked the rocks, Sofia growing more and more agitated. Finally, several miles from the harbour, she spotted a white boat gliding over the wave tops with all the speed of a shark.

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"They're seven miles south of the harbour!" Sofia announced through the walkie.

"You heard her!" Brass shouted to Matt Glazer. The police boat cruised the waves as they sped towards their suspects. Warrick, Nick, Greg, and Sara waited with baited breath as a small white fishing boat came into view. This was it.

"Halt!" Glazer demanded through the loud speaker, "On behalf of the LAPD, we request that you stop and prepare to be boarded. Miraculously the boat stopped.

"What does the LAPD want with us?" Mark White questioned as he moved onto the deck. His tie was over his shoulder and blood lined his forearms and the cuffs of his rolled up shirt.

"Keep your hands where I can see them!" Brass shouted, pointing his gun at the man. White held up his hands in surrender.

"Miss your friends?" a second voice questioned. Annie and Glazer pointed their guns at Karl White, who was casually leaning on the rail of his boat.

"Hands where we can see them," Annie demanded. Like his brother, Karl raised his hands. He was still smirking, however, as Glazer and two uniforms pulled alongside of the vessel, ready to board it.

"Where are they?" Warrick growled, hopping onto the fishing boat with the rest of the law enforcement officials. In two strides, he reached Karl White.

"You'll never reach them in time," White chuckled. Warrick seized him by his shirt.

"Tell me, or I'll make it my business to watch both of you die by lethal injection!" he threatened.

"Warrick, my friend, are you hot for Willows? Is that why your marriage failed? Pity she's always ran to Grissom, though. Not you," White taunted. He barely flinched as Warrick raised a fist and decked him.

"Warrick!" Brass shouted, holding the younger man back.

"You think you're so smart, you little son of a-"

"I know more about all of you than you know about yourselves," Karl shot at him, "Why else do you think I put them in a box together?" he asked, "None of you dumb fucks have any idea that it'd kill Grissom to watch Willows die. I do. Hell, the bastard almost got himself killed when Charlie stuck a gun to her head. Dumbest thing I've ever seen."

"Alright, you've said enough," Glazer stepped forwards, putting the younger White brother in cuffs, "Why don't you follow your brother's example and shut the hell up?"

"Yes, Karl, shut up!" Mark hissed at his brother. It didn't take a CSI to figure out that Karl was more at ease with this arrest than Mark. Perhaps Mark hadn't even been informed that they'd be toying with the police. He had intended to flee and enjoy their perfect revenge. Karl merely smirked as he was led onto the police cruiser behind his brother.

"Make things a little easier on yourselves," Nick requested, appealing to Mark, "Tell us where our CSIs are and we can cut you a deal."

"Where are they?" Sara pleaded desperately.

"I'd rather watch them die for what they did to my family," Mark spat at him. Nick roughly shoved him into a seat.

"Here, here, bro!" Karl cheered, "For Charlie!" and with that, he broke away from Glazer and ran the length of the police boat. He was going to jump in the water! Greg and Brass attempted to chase after him, but before they could take two steps, Karl White ran headlong into Sara, sending them both into the icy ocean.

"Sara!" Nick shouted, rushing to the side. Sara's head broke water and she tried to swim one-armed to the boat. Then, there was a splash as White got his cuffed wrists in front of his body and heaved himself onto Sara, dunking her under water.

White was too strong. He easily overpowered her. She could feel the metal of the handcuff chain around her neck. Her cast made it impossible to fight back. It was like a dead weight, acting in conjunction with White as he dragged her to the ocean floor. The pressure of the chain around her neck and the water constricted her breathing. The more she struggled, the tighter White held her. She couldn't breathe. Everything swam in and out of focus. She was going to die.

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"Put it in the hole!" Grissom ordered, removing his damp shirt and passing it to Catherine. She grabbed it and stuffed it into a tight ball at attempted to wedge it on the opening, against the gushing water. It was hard.

Then she felt his hands over hers, helping her push the shirt deeper in the hole. Inspiration struck as she removed her hands and undid her own shirt, clumping it together with his in the growing opening. The harder they pushed on the shirts, the less water flowed into their prison.

Grissom knew that it was only a matter of time before the water would fill the coffin, but they had bought themselves some time. As he watched a crack start to spread around the gaping hole, he only hoped that they had enough time to fight for their lives.

TBC

AN: Please review if you want to know what happens next. I'd really appriciate it. It cheers me up to know that something I do is actually appriciated. Note: Sara still has her cast.


	11. In the Last Moment

**AN**: Don't even ask what I was about to write in this Author's note. I am such a dork.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Chapter Eleven: The Last Moment

He was running out of oxygen. He ignored the tight feeling in his chest and clawed his way to the bottom of the ocean. He could see them on the ocean floor. Sara had stopped struggling. Only a few more feet and he was upon them. He fought with White to remove the hands that were holding Sara still. He had to save her. He made fists and pounded on any piece of White that he could find. Every blow took its toll. He needed oxygen. He wouldn't leave Sara.

And then he felt two people on either side of him. They helped him remove White from Sara's motionless body. Then they were kicking to the surface. The air felt cool as their heads broke the surface. They greedily took in oxygen as they made their way to the boat. Sara was heaved on board, followed by Nick, Greg, and Warrick. As they stumbled onto the wood deck, they watched as Glazer preformed CPR on their friend.

There was a cough and water spluttered from Sara's mouth.

"Sara!" Nick cried, rushing with Warrick and Greg to the brunette's side.

"I-I thought I was going to d-die!" she gasped, clutching any part of them that she could grasp.

"Shh, Sara, you're okay," Nick told her, gently caressing her face. He didn't realize that he had been crying or how scared he was for her. He placed his forehead against hers.

"Let's head back to port!" Brass ordered, "Sara needs a doctor!"

The boat was turned around and sped back to the harbour.

"My brother!" Mark White screamed in agony, but the officer restraining him had no sympathy.

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"How much time do we have?" Catherine asked, splashing in the growing pool of water to look at Gil.

"I don't know!" he responded, "If we stay in here, we'll die!"

"We can't get out!" she cried, attempting to reason with him.

"The side is weak enough that we can kick out the sides when we need to. Then we can swim to the surface," he explained, "It's our only shot!"

"What about the sharks?" she questioned, still able to see a few of the creatures. He shook his head.

"We'll have to take that chance!" he said bravely, "I know that you can do it, Catherine. Are you with me?" he asked her. She looked into his blue pools and she couldn't help but trust him.

"Always," she breathed. He smiled at her and nodded.

"We'll wait until the water gets a bit higher in here," he explained, "The less time that we're in open water, the better," he said, knowing that if he wanted to keep her safe, this would be the best way.

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"But I'm fine!" Sara protested as Nick helped her off of the boat. Brass shook his head.

"Nick, get her checked out!" he ordered. Nick couldn't help but nod in agreement as he lead her onto the dock. Annie Kramer lead a sobbing Mark White off of the boat. Then Glazer fired up the engine and they were into open water once again.

"I'm alright!" Sara argued. Nick shook his head.

"Come on, Sara," he said firmly, leading her to the parking lot where Lindsey and Lily were sitting in the back of the Denali, staring at the laptop. Both started when they saw Nick and Sara's soaking we bodies.

"What happened?" Lindsey asked, looking up. She caught the red marks on Sara's neck.

"Sara nearly drowned," Nick replied curtly, "Get in. We're going to the hospital."

Sara grudgingly hopped into the back of the Denali with Lily and Lindsey, where she had a full view of the laptop, "How are they?" she asked, her voice softening.

"They stuffed their shirts to stop the water, but its still coming in," Lindsey explained. Sara looked and saw Grissom, sans a shirt, laying in a pool of water with Catherine, who only wore a white bra. Sara didn't know what to feel as she observed how close they were. Instead she looked at the back of Nick's head as he drove.

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Grissom was laying on his elbows, his head just touching the top of the coffin. The water had risen to his chest. Even though they had a plan to escape, he couldn't help but feel as though the last moments of his life were near. There was so much that he never did, never said. He wished that he could tell everyone that he cared about how he felt. He wished that he could have a chance to say the things that he had left unsaid. The likelihood that he would ever see Brass, Doc Robbins, Sofia, Nick, Warrick, Greg, and Sara was low. He wanted so much to tell them that he would miss them and that he was sorry for his social ineptitudes and that they made him who he was. He wanted to say goodbye.

He felt a movement beside him and looked over to Catherine's shivering form. If the situation was different, he might have enjoyed the fact that she was wearing only a bra. So many times over the years, he had fantasized about her. She would never know…or would she? He had just wished that he could say goodbye to those he had cared about, and here was the woman that had become his best friend, laying beside him. If he wanted to say the things that were left unsaid between them, now was the time to say them, but where to begin? For the first time in his life, he decided, he was going to be totally honest with her.

"Because I was a coward," he admitted. She turned to him and stared.

"What?" she asked, not understanding his sudden outburst. He turned and looked her in the eyes.

"You asked my why I had lectured you about integrity and then compromised my own integrity by having an affair with Sara. That's why," he explained. She raised an eyebrow.

"Because you're a coward?" she asked. He nodded.

"I was lonely and I took the easy way out. I knew that Sara had a bit of a thing for me. Even though I didn't feel the same as she did, I started a relationship with her. I grew to care about her. I thought I loved her, at least that's what I told myself," he admitted, bowing his head, "But I didn't feel the same as she did. I could never give her my whole heart. I think even she senses that sometimes and I feel like the lowest human being on the planet. I think she knows that she was my second choice. Out of cowardice, I settled for her."

"You settled for Sara?" Catherine asked, not believing that he was telling her this now.

"Yes. If I was a braver man, I would've been able to tell her that I didn't love her, at least not in the way that I love you," he told her, his eyes still downcast. She didn't know what to say.

"You-you love me?" she questioned. He swallowed and nodded.

"For years now, but I could never muster the courage to tell you that I wanted to be more than just your friend."

She looked at him as if she was seeing him in a new light. He still refused to look her in the eye. She reached over and touched her cheek.

"Look at me, Gil," she requested. He obeyed and she asked the question, "Do you love me?"

"Yes," he answered, "I'm sorry that I'm telling you this now, but if I don't, I may never have the courage to tell you again," he attempted to shift his gaze downwards, but she wouldn't have any of it.

"Gil," she whispered softly, bringing his gaze back to her face, "I love you, too," she said back. She saw a spark of hope in his eyes as she nodded and smiled a watery smile at him. Then he moved towards her and captured her mouth in a kiss filled with all of the things that they had never said, but should have said, to each other. He could only describe it as passionate and special, like that of the woman he was kissing. All of his fears dissipated as she deepened the kiss, assuring him that she indeed, loved him the way that he loved her.

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"Come on, everybody out," Nick called, opening the door for Sara. She climbed out of the back, followed by Lindsey, who had briefly set the laptop on the seat so that she could get out. She turned to retrieve it and gasped. Her gasp made both Sara and Nick stare at the screen. Nick's eyes widened as he felt Sara stiffen beside him.

Grissom and Catherine were locked in a passionate embrace, kissing each other as if they would never get another chance to do so. As surprised as Nick was, he had to admit that they looked damn good together as they expressed all of their emotions in that kiss. Even he, a mere bystander, could see the love that radiated from them as they kissed each other.

Sara stood, rooted to the ground, her mouth agape, as she watched the man that she thought she loved, passionately kiss the woman that he had assured her was just a friend. Sara had never completely believed him when he had told her that. She always knew that there was more to them then either let on. This was the cold, hard proof that she was right.

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If he died right now, Gil would have died a happy man, as he gladly spent his last moments with the woman that he loved.

"I love you," she told him when they reluctantly pulled away from each other. He smiled.

"I love you, too," he replied, gently caressing her face.

There was a CRACK, and Gil realized that it would only be a matter of time before they would have to escape their prison.

"What do we do?" Catherine whimpered beside him. He looked at her and saw fear. He felt that familiar, gripping fear that had a hold on him whenever he thought about losing her.

"We have to get out of here," he said, "On the count of three, we'll push out your side. We'll have to wait for the water to gush in before we can swim free. I promise you that I won't let you go, alright?" he asked. She nodded.

"I trust you," she whispered. He nodded and mustered the courage for what he was about to do.

"One. Two. Three!" he counted. They both hit the side as hard as they could. It gave way and water rapidly filled the Plexiglas coffin. Just before the water completely filled the box, Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows took their last breaths.

TBC

So I know I'm evil with the cliffhangers. If you want to know what happens next, send me a review to give me the incentive to keep on writing. I couldn't kill Sara. I wouldn't kill her off just so GC could get together.


	12. The Recovery

**AN**: Between exams and computer problems, I didn't have much time to update. I am so sorry.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Chapter Twelve: The Recovery

"What did they do? What did they do?" Lindsey sobbed, clutching her grandmother tightly. The laptop was discarded. Only an empty box remained. Grissom and Catherine were gone.

Nick couldn't stop the tears that fell as he clutched Sara near him in the parking lot of the hospital. She was crying, too, but from which part of Grissom and Catherine's last moments in their prison, he didn't know. He shook as he brought the walkie-talkie to his mouth.

"B-Brass," he stammered.

"What's up, Nick?" Brass's gruff voiced came from the mike. He didn't know how he could say it. He choked back a sob.

"Grissom and Catherine are out of the prison," he announced, "They pushed out the side. They're gone."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, before Brass spoke, "Alright, Nick."

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Time froze on the boat. Warrick and Greg had heard Nick's message.

"They-they didn't…suicide?" Greg questioned, shaking as he fought back tears.

"We can't think like that," Brass's voice shook as he said this, "We just have to find them…maybe they…maybe they got out," he was trying and failing to be optimistic. Grissom and Catherine didn't have long. This was going to become a body recovery mission.

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They were submerged. With effort, they managed to roll out of the Plexiglas and into the open ocean. Catherine's hand slipped from his, but his initial instincts kicked in. He grasped her outstretched forearm and pulled her into his body. She had never had more faith in him, than she had at that moment.

They kicked towards the surface, past the rocks that had hidden their coffin from view. The held each other, seeking the reassurance that the other one would be alright. Finally, their heads broke water. They could see the clouds and feel the wind on their faces.

"We made it!" Catherine gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck as they both treaded water.

"We did," he sighed in relief. Half their job was over. Now the hard part began. He didn't know what would happen. All that he knew was that he was happy that they were together.

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Sofia had received a transmission from Brass. Tears were streaming down her face as the pilot flew over the ocean, now on the lookout for two bodies. She almost hoped that they wouldn't find them. She didn't think she'd be able to stand the sight of the lifeless bodies of her friends.

"Do you see that?" the pilot asked suddenly. Sofia's downcast head snapped to attention as she looked to where he was pointing.

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"Get on it," Gil ordered. Catherine shook her head.

"Not unless you can get on it, too," she said stubbornly.

"The buoy is only big enough for one of us and it's going to be you," he said firmly, motioning to the red buoy that had been a few feet away from where they had surfaced. Perhaps it had been a marker set up by their kidnappers.

"I'm not leaving you down in the water so I can watch a shark kill you," she argued, "I refuse."

"Well, I'm not about to watch you die. I've spent my entire life trying to avoid that. I don't mind being down here. You can live. You need to live. You have Lindsey to take care of," he countered. She shook her head no.

"If you died, I wouldn't be far behind. Who would take care of me?" she questioned. As touched as he was by her sentiments, he continued arguing with her.

"Get on the damn buoy, Catherine," he demanded. She refused. Their staring contest was broken by the sound of an engine. They looked in the direction of the noise and saw a helicopter.

"Hey!" Catherine shouted, waving her arms. Gil took the opportunity to push her onto the buoy so that the helicopter could see her. Then he started waving his arms.

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"It's them!" Sofia squealed, "They're alive!" she screamed.

"Drop the shark repellent," the pilot ordered his crew. The men obediently opened the hatch and dropped the repellent in the water.

Sofia was crying tears of happiness as she watched her friends move vibrantly to get their attention.

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"They're alive!" Brass, Greg, and Warrick heard Sofia scream through the walkie.

"They are?" Brass questioned.

"Yes!" Sofia cried happily. Brass felt as if she had taken the weight of the world off of his shoulders. The news that Grissom and Catherine were alive was the best news that he had ever heard.

"What's your position?" Brass asked. Sofia gave them the coordinates and they were off to recover their friends.

Warrick resisted the urge to jump up and down. Greg actually acted on the urge and wound up falling to the deck and hitting his head.

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"They dropped something!" Catherine pointed to the spot where the shark repellent had fallen. The copter continued to circle above them, as if waiting for something.

Then they discovered what the copter had been waiting for. A police cruiser was zooming into view. Within moments, the cruiser was pulling up beside them.

"Griss! Cath!" they heard Greg's shriek of excitement from onboard. A moment later, they caught sight of Warrick wrestling back Greg, who looked as if he were about to dive in the water with Grissom and Catherine.

"Oh my god!" Catherine laughed, tears of relief falling.

"Get them up here!" Brass ordered the younger CSIs. Brass grinned as he himself leaned over the side. Grissom forced Catherine to go first.

"CATH!" Greg pounced on her as soon as she was on deck, quickly followed by Warrick.

"Christ, you two are going to kill me!" she cried, but she was laughing as she hugged two of her guys.

"Alright, Gil?" Brass questioned as he leaned over to help his friend. Grissom grabbed his arm.

"Never bet-" he was cut off when he was dragged under the water, his hand slipping from Brass.

"What the hell!" Brass shouted. The water churned red. Catherine, Warrick, and Greg rushed to the side. In the middle of the red, Grissom surfaced, spluttering water and screaming for help.

"NOO!" Catherine screamed as she watched as he was dragged underwater again. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't lose him now.

Five gunshots rang through the crisp sea air. Both, Glazer, and a sharp-shooter from the helicopter shot into the water at the same time. Grissom came up again and he was screaming in agony.

"GRISS!" Warrick cried, reaching with Brass and Glazer for his boss. The heaved him over the edge.

"ARG!" he groaned, feeling as though there were a hundred white hot knives piercing his skin.

"GIL!" Catherine cried, moving to his side, caressing the side of his head.

"Is it bad?" Warrick questioned as Glazer tied his jacket over Grissom's bleeding leg.

"It could be worse," Glazer grunted, "We have to get him to a hospital, ASAP!" he said, returning to the engine and firing it to life.

"G-Gil!" Catherine sobbed, trying to calm both herself and him.

"How-how bad is it?" he asked, shaking. Greg draped a jacket and a blanket over his boss, while Warrick put his jacket over Catherine's bare shoulders.

"You'll be okay," she tried, "He said it wasn't that bad," she told him, wiping her eyes with her hand. Grissom groaned as he shifted to look at her.

"Th-then why are y-you crying?" he asked, moving to take her free hand in his.

"Because you scared the hell out of me," she admitted, not caring that he could see her cry. They had gotten long past that. He gave her a weak smile.

"Y-your p-plan to use m-me as a d-decoy worked," he stammered, attempting to make her smile. She gave him a watery smile.

"Damn you, Gil Grissom," she sighed. To Jim, Warrick, and Greg's immense surprise, she leaned in and kissed him. And Grissom, despite his attack, responded to Catherine quite enthusiastically.

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Lindsey sobbed into Nick as they waited for the doctor to finish checking Sara over. She couldn't believe that her mother was gone. The news had cut through her like a knife. Her grandmother had to be sedated. She was an orphan. First her dad, who, despite not being a model father, had always been loved by Lindsey. Then her grandfather, who she was only just beginning to know when he died. Now her mother, who had loved, protected, and cared for Lindsey since the day she was born. It wasn't fair, Lindsey sobbed. Catherine had never deserved this. Oh, how Lindsey wished that she had been the one to go instead of her mother. She couldn't stop the waves of tears.

"Sanders to Stokes! Come in Stokes!" Nick's walkie buzzed.

"Stokes," he said heavily.

"They're alive!" Greg cried happily, "They're alive! We've got them!"

"What?" Nick asked, his eyes widening in surprise. Lindsey jumped up and looked hopefully at him.

"They're okay!" Greg shouted.

"We're bringing them to the hospital!" Warrick called from the other end, "Tell the doctors to expect a shark attack victim!"

The joy on Nick and Lindsey's faces was replaced by fear.

"Who was attacked?" Nick asked quickly.

"Grissom," Warrick answered, "Just his leg. Otherwise he's fine. More than fine actually," he explained. Nick swore he caught a snicker.

"What do you mean by that?" Nick asked.

"Let's just say Catherine's taking very good care of him," Warrick said coyly. Greg was laughing.

"She's giving him mouth to mouth…only he's conscious," Greg announced. Lindsey and Nick snorted.

Back on the boat, Catherine and Grissom didn't care about anybody else. They only had eyes for each other.

TBC

AN: so I would have had this up way sooner and I apologize for everything. Anyways, merry christmas.


	13. Sara and Catherine

**AN**: I am sorry for the delay. I hit a stump with this fic and my personal and school life has been less than great. Look for another update later in the week.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Chapter Thirteen: Sara and Catherine

There was glee on Nick and Lindsey's faces and yet Sara could only muster a small smile when they told her that Grissom and Catherine were rescued. Lindsey was too preoccupied looking out the window for the ambulance holding her mother and Grissom. Nick, however, noticed the look on Sara's face. It was as if she was happy and sad at the same time.

"Sara, are you okay?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yeah, Nick. Fine," she replied, determined not to let the pain show on her face. Nick shook his head.

"No, you're not," he said, "Sara, I don't blame you for being upset," he assured her. She was about to protest, but then decided against it. What good would it do to lie to him?

"I-" she couldn't finish. She didn't know how to communicate what she was feeling. Thankfully, Nick somehow understood what she could not say. He stepped up and pulled her in a hug. There was something about being in his strong arms that made her feel safe and secure. She liked the feeling, she decided as she laid her head on his chest. Neither of them knew how long the stood there together, but they both knew how good it felt to be held onto like that.

After what seemed like ages, they heard Lindsey gasp when Brass, Warrick, Greg, Glazer, and the EMTs ran alongside a gurney that held Grissom. Catherine was right beside him, clutching his hand as he was wheeled along. Sara and Nick released each other and watched as everyone, including Catherine, were told to wait in the waiting room. Catherine's hand only released Grissom's when he was wheeled away from her. It was at that moment that Sara knew for certain that it was truly over between her and the older man.

"MOM!" Lindsey squealed, running to her mother, who turned around in shock.

"Lindsey?" she questioned, but despite her confusion, she hugged her daughter so tightly that an onlooker would have thought that they had been separated for years, "What are you doing here?" Catherine questioned, wiping tears from her daughter's cheeks.

"I came with everyone else," Lindsey explained, "Grandma's here too, but she had to be sedated."

"Sedated?" Catherine asked, looking around the room for confirmation.

"When you guys disappeared from the box, she was hysterical," Nick explained, stepping forwards. Catherine's confused look still hadn't dissipated.

"How did you know when we disappeared?" she asked.

"There was a live feed of you and Grissom in the box," Warrick answered, placing a hand on her shoulder, "That's how we figured out where you were and everything."

"There was a live feed?" Catherine asked, unease beginning to set in. She clutched Warrick's jacket more tightly around her as she scanned the outskirts of the small group of people for the only person who hadn't spoken since she arrived. Her blue eyes met Sara's brown ones. The sudden tension between the two women forced the room into an uneasy silence. Catherine swallowed and took several steps forwards until she was standing in front of the other woman. For a moment, they merely stared at each other. Every man in the room was alert and ready to separate them if things got ugly.

"You saw everything," Catherine said. It was not a question.

"I did," Sara replied, her voice strangely calm.

"And?" Catherine questioned.

"I guess I could never hope to compete with you, Catherine," Sara said placidly.

"He cares about you Sara," Catherine told her. A bitter smile played on the young brunette's face.

"But he loves you. I know he does. It was in that kiss. He has never kissed me like that," Sara countered, her voice shaking slightly. Catherine bit her lower lip, taking the pause to choose her words carefully.

"What do you want me to say, Sara? Sorry? I'm not sorry for loving him, but I am sorry that you got hurt because of it," she said, "I'm sorry you had to find out the way that you did. It can't have been easy to see that on a screen."

Sara let out a shaky sigh before she spoke, "Would you have told me if there hadn't been a live feed?" she asked, needing the answer. She needed to know. She was a little disbelieving when Catherine nodded.

"As much as I would have dreaded that conversation, I would have told you, and Gil would have too. I would have made him. I was on the bad end of an affair too, Sara. I know it hurts all the more when you're deceived," Catherine replied. Sara saw nothing but sincerity in the older woman's eyes.

"That wouldn't have been an easy conversation," Sara commented, letting a weak chuckle escape. Catherine smiled a little bit.

"No, it definitely wouldn't have," she agreed, "Both of us are too hard-headed for that conversation to go well."

Silence fell between the two and they seemed like they weren't about to kill each other. Even so, none of the others were able to relax. Then Sara spoke.

"You really love each other, don't you?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"I love him. And I think he loves me. I can't speak for him," Catherine replied. Sara nodded, as if accepting the truth.

"As long as he's happy," she resigned. In a tentative gesture, Catherine placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Sara didn't shake her away, which was a good sign.

The tension was relieved as they sat next to each other on the long sofa in the waiting area. Lindsey bounded after them and sat on the other side of Catherine. The rest of the team assembled around them as they waited for the doctor to announce Grissom's status.

When the doctor finally appeared, they all rose as one.

TBC

Please Review. I could use an incentive and inspiration to keep going.


	14. Forever Until The End of Time

**AN**: I updated a little later than expected, but at least I got you something before exams. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI. I wish I did, cuz I have a lot of ideas that I wish that they'd put in the show.

**In A Plexiglas Prison With You**

Chapter 14: Forever Until The End of Time

"You are Mr. Grissom's colleagues?" the doctor asked as he approached the large group conjugated in the lobby.

"Yes," Catherine replied, "Is he alright?" she asked. The others waited with bated breath for the answer.

"He will be fine," the doctor replied and a collective sigh of relief was heard. The doctor continued, "We've stitched up his leg and he's receiving blood as we speak. We did x-rays, and we figure that when the shark dragged him under the water, Mr. Grissom's knee was dislocated. I don't want him putting pressure on that leg for at least two weeks. After that, I would recommend that he see his own doctor for further instruction."

"He's not going like that," Brass quipped, smirking a little.

"Can we see him?" Catherine asked. The doctor nodded.

"Yes, of course," he said, then he paused and asked, "Are you Catherine Willows?"

"Yes, why?" she asked, confusion gracing her lovely features.

"Mr. Grissom expressed some concern about your well-being. He asked me to make sure you were alright," the doctor explained. Catherine waved him off.

"I am fine. These guys are taking good care of me," she told him. It was the truth. In the hour that they sat in the waiting room together, Warrick and Nick had brought her coffee and Jim and Sofia, who arrived about a half-hour after Catherine and Grissom, went to get take-out.

"If you're sure that you're alright, then I can take you to see Mr. Grissom," the doctor told her. Catherine was more than ready to follow the doctor to Gil, but something held her back. It was a nagging concern in the back of her mind for the younger brunette standing beside her. Catherine knew quite well that if she was to see Gil now, she would not want to leave his side long enough for him and Sara to have the conversation that they so needed to have.

"Cath?" Warrick asked when she still had not answered the doctor. Instead of answering him, she turned to Sara.

"You go first," she said.

"What?" Sara asked, not expecting this.

"You and Gil need to talk about this. As hard as it will be for the two of you, it needs to happen," Catherine stated firmly. Sara was abashed.

"But-"

"Sara, I love him and I know him well enough to know that if you two don't sort this out, he will regret losing you as a friend and neither of you will be able to move on. End it on good terms," Catherine pleaded, stepping aside in respect to allow Sara to pass. Sara hesitated before stepping forwards to go to Grissom's room. As far as she was concerned, it was already over between her and Grissom. She could see that he and Catherine truly loved each other, even though it hurt her to admit it. As she walked through the plain white halls, she thought about Catherine's words and how they rang true. It was better end the relationship on good terms than letting it turn ugly and cause pain for both of them. Suddenly Sara felt a great surge of respect for Catherine, who chose not to rush in and force Sara to watch her and Grissom together. She allowed Sara to lessen the blow by allowing her to deal with it first, and for that, Sara was thankful.

"Why'd you do that?" Greg asked once Sara had left.

"Because its better for them to deal with it in private now than in a room full of people later. And besides, some things are just worth the wait," Catherine shrugged, taking a seat between Lindsey and Sofia. Following her lead, Warrick, Greg, and Jim took up their seats again. Nick stood beside the chairs as fixed his eyes on the hallway that Sara had just walked down.

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Sara stopped walking just outside the doorway. She needed a moment to collect her thoughts and muster the courage to face Grissom. He was hardly a scary man. It was the looming conversation she needed to have with him that scared her. She had her heart broken so many times, first by her parents and their disastrous marriage, then by boyfriend after boyfriend, and now by Grissom, who she had thought would be everything she wanted. She had to admit that her fantasies of the two of them together were actually better than the reality. In her years of yearning for him, she had placed him on a sort of pedestal, but when they finally started seeing each other, her treasure was still out of reach. She saw that now. That treasure was never hers to begin with. She realized this now. While this conversation would most assuredly hurt, Sara would be free to find the treasure that truly belonged to her. It gave her the hope and the courage that she sorely needed.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Grissom's head snapped up to see who had come to see him.

"Sara. Hi," he said softly, dropping his eyes from hers, feeling guilt for what he had done. He hadn't even thought about how his loving Catherine would hurt Sara until he had seen the latter walk in the room.

"Hi," she echoed just as softly, taking several light steps forwards until she was standing at the foot of his bed. The closer she got to him, the more panic took hold. His hands began to sweat and his mouth had become dry. He knew needed to tell her what had transpired in the coffin, but he didn't want to cause her so much pain. There was silence in the room for a moment before he raised his eyes to hers.

"Sara, I-" he cut off, just noticing the red and purple bruising around her neck, "What happened to you?" he asked, concerned. Sara involuntarily touched her neck.

"Your stalker," she replied, and at his confused expression, she elaborated, "Karl and Markus White have been stalking you and Catherine for years because you two testified against their brother, Charles, which resulted in him getting the death penalty."

"Charles White?" Grissom asked uneasily. He remembered that case. Catherine had been a CSI for a little more than a year when she had had a gun pointed at her head. That was probably the scariest moment of his life. He unconsciously touched an old scar on his shoulder, a scar he received when Charlie White had fired at him when he had tried to distract him from Catherine.

"Yeah," Sara replied, "They've been stalking the two of you for ages. They sent us pictures of you two over the years as well as a link to a live feed of the Plexiglas coffin," she explained. She saw him start in surprise.

"There was a live feed?" he asked. She nodded.

"I saw it all," she told him, "and I talked to Catherine," she added. Grissom was a bit curious as to how that conversation went. He was silent for a moment as he formed the words he needed to say.

"I-I never meant to hurt you, Sara," he stated, "Never. And I am so sorry that you had to find out like that."

"I know," she assured, taking the seat next to the bed, "And as much as it does hurt, I realize that both of us would have just hurt worse if the relationship was allowed to drag on. Maybe it's better this way. Maybe we can both finally get what we truly want."

"I hope so," he agreed. He didn't want to say that he had already found everything he could ever want. That would just hurt her and even if he did not love her, he still cared about her and hoped that someday, she could find someone to make her as happy as Catherine made him. And he told her this.

"I care about you, too," she said to him after he expressed his last sentiment, "And I want you to be happy, even if it's not with me. She really loves you, you know? And I can tell that you really love her. Someday I hope that I can find the same thing."

"I know you will," he said firmly, "Someday you will find the person who is right for you."

"Thanks, Griss," she said, truly touched. They sat for another moment before Sara rose to her feet.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked. She smiled at him.

"I feel that I have deprived the others of enough visiting time with you," she told him, "I'm still not sure how Catherine resisted the urge to come running in here when the doctor gave the okay. She probably would have run the poor doctor down if she hadn't stopped and allowed me to talk to you first."

He laughed.

His laughter was the last thing she heard before she exited his room.

Once again, Sara leant against the wall outside his room and let out a shaky breath. True, that wasn't as hard as she thought it would be, but now that it was all said and done, she felt a twinge of loneliness that one feels when they part with a boyfriend or girlfriend. In the dark hallway, the fears that she would never find another to share her life with outweighed the hope that she had expressed before. The inner conflict was more painful that the actual break up. She swallowed hard and moved away from the wall. When she walked, her legs felt like jell-o. Somehow, she made it out of the dimly lit hall and into the brightly lit waiting area.

Nick was the first one to see her approach. He took a step forwards. The others saw this and followed his gaze to the lost-looking Sara Sidle. They all rose as one and stood beside Nick.

"How are you doing?" Catherine asked. Sara mustered a weak smile.

"It was for the best," she replied, "I think he wants to see you. All of you guys," she told them. After offering Sara some quick words of encouragement, they headed down the hall to Grissom's room. Nick remained.

"Need a friend?" he asked, stepping a little closer to her.

"Are you sure you don't want to go with the others? I'm fine," she assured him. He could see right through her.

"And I'm fine standing here with you," he told her, but unlike her previous response, he was completely and totally sincere. She knew he was sincere and she was touched by that sincerity. She cursed the few tears that leaked from her eyes. She hated crying. Fortunately, Nick didn't mind. He moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. She found herself relaxing in his arms, feeling that same comfort that she had felt earlier. Something about it just seemed to fit. She was content to just stay in his embrace forever.

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The door to Grissom's room burst open. He knew who it was without even looking up. But he did look up and he saw the love of his life standing there, beaming at him. Her grin was infectious as a wide smile played on his own face. He moved over a little and patted a spot on the bed. Taking the hint, she bounded forwards, but before she sat down, she kissed him. He happily responded, missing her contact while she was in the waiting room. He pulled her on the bed, deepening the kiss.

"Oi! There are minors present!" Greg interrupted, gesturing to Lindsey, who smirked.

"Come off it. That's tame compared to when they were inside the box," she commented. Catherine and Grissom broke apart and flushed red. They looked around and saw the rest of the team standing in the doorway with grins on their faces. Finally Brass stepped forwards and gently pulled Greg and Lindsey back into the hall.

"Why don't we give these two a moment, eh?" he suggested, shutting the door behind him. Grissom and Catherine chuckled when they heard Greg's protests through the door. When their amusement died down, they lapsed into a comfortable silence, with her sitting beside him on the bed with one arm draped around his neck. They stared into each other's eyes and knew exactly what was on the other's mind. Gil leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips before pulling back.

"I meant what I said in the box," he told her, "I do love you."

"I know," she replied, leaning her forehead on his, "And I love you too."

He used his free hand to cup the side of her face as he leaned towards her and caught her lips once more. It was a kiss reminiscent to the one that they shared inside their Plexiglas prison.

"Gil?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad that I was stuck in that Plexiglas prison with you," Catherine whispered, breaking the kiss, but not the intense emotional connection that they shared.

"I can't think of anyone I would rather be stuck with, Catherine," he replied, catching her lips once more. He had been stuck with her since the moment his eyes had first connected with hers. With that thought in mind, he vowed that he would remain that way until the end of time.

He was hers and she was his. It just took a few hours in a Plexiglas prison to show them the truth; that no matter what life threw their way, they would be alright as long as they were together.

The End

AN: So there's the end of my fic. I hope you enjoyed the ride. I'd love to know what you guys thought of this. Thanks for all your kind words throughout the fic.


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